


Dew Drops

by emmyphant



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Pre-Relationship, basically a collection of one shots, hopefully, one for every day in november, one-shots collection, tags will be updated as I go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:35:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 37,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27160546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmyphant/pseuds/emmyphant
Summary: Instead of NaNoWriMo, I'm going to be doing a one-shot for every day in November! They will be centered around Thasmin and the Fam, they will range from soft to angsty to fluffy and everything in between! A mixture of fam adventures, pre-relationship thasmin and established relationship thasmin. Chapters will be tagged/rated individually where appropriate, enjoy :)
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor & Yasmin Khan, Thirteenth Doctor & Yasmin Khan & Graham O'Brien & Ryan Sinclair, Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 183
Kudos: 98





	1. Colours

**Author's Note:**

> Have some established-relationship Thasmin and some good old fam fluff! Chapter one has a very small warning for mentions of depression, but this is more comfort than hurt! Enjoy :)

The Doctor had been up for hours, and Yaz still hadn’t risen. Well, technically, the Doctor had been up all night, it wasn’t like she needed a lot of sleep, but she tended to at least sit by Yaz while her girlfriend slept, usually making the most of the time to catch up on some reading. She wasn't too concerned though, she often forgot just how much sleep humans need. But when even Ryan had emerged, and Yaz still hadn’t, she went looking.

Not that she has to look far, Yaz was unsurprisingly still in their bedroom. Unfortunately though, when the Doctor poked her head around the door to check on her, she was greeted with the sight of Yaz still curled in bed, staring blankly at the wall. Kicking her boots off with a quiet sigh, the Doctor padded over to the bed in her stripey blue socks and flopped herself down next to Yaz, crossing her legs and placing a gentle hand on Yaz’s shoulder.

“You feeling okay, Yaz?”

“Hmm?”

“I asked if you’re alright,” the Time Lord repeated, growing a little more concerned. She hated to see her fam, especially Yaz, down about something.

Yaz furrowed her brow, then plastered an unconvincing smile on her face. “Yeah, me? Fine. All good.”

The Doctor narrowed her eyes. “That’s my line, Yaz.”

Yaz rolled her eyes, shuffling a little so her head was closer to the Doctor’s knee. Thankfully, the alien took the hint and started to stroke her hair softly, giving her girlfriend space to open up.

She did after a little while, indicating that she was ready to start talking by grasping the Doctor’s other hand.

“This is probably silly-”

“Nope, can guarantee it won’t be.”

Yaz rolled her eyes, but continued anyway. “Back on Earth, it’s properly into autumn now, almost winter. It’s stupid, because I love autumn, but it means that now there’s going to be more dark hours than light hours, and I dunno, it just makes me feel kinda down.”

“Seasonal affective disorder?” The Doctor asked, scrunching her face in thought.

“Yup,” Yaz nodded.

“Not just humans that have to deal with it, you know? There aren’t many planets that experience seasons the way you humans do on Earth, but there are plenty of other planets that have longer dark periods. Gets to everyone, I think.” The Time Lord shrugged and leaned back on one hand, the other still absent-mindedly carding through Yaz’s loose curls.

“Really?” Yaz asked, looking up at her girlfriend.

“Yeah! Common thing.”

Yaz pushed herself up, crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap. “It’s annoying though, because I love autumn, but I can’t help but think about how it just gets darker earlier and it takes longer for the sun to rise, and it’s all cold and rainy. It makes the regular depression so much harder to fight off. It’s stupid.”

“Again, not stupid,” the Doctor chided gently, and Yaz chuckled. “But, I’ve got an idea. Dress in your best autumnal outfit, then meet me in the console room, I’ll tell the boys.”

Before Yaz could properly comprehend what she was saying, the Doctor had kissed her on the forehead, jumped up from the bed and was out of the door, skipping off down the hallway, presumably in the direction of the console room.

* * *

An hour later, Yaz trudged into the console room where the Doctor, Ryan and Graham were already waiting for her. The trio greeted her with a grin, and she instantly felt just that little bit lighter, leaning against a crystalline pillar and toying with the sleeve of her denim jacket.

“Right fam,” the Doctor announced, dancing around the console in a flurry of coat tails. “Today, we’re heading to an _amazing_ little planet called Muskoka.”

“Mus-what?” Graham asked, looking at Ryan who just shrugged.

“Muskoka! Named after a place in Canada, very popular among you humans at a certain time of year. Anyway, this is kind of a trip especially for Yaz, it’ll all make sense when we get there, I promise!”

The TARDIS landed with a thump and a groan, and then the Doctor was bounding towards the doors with the excitement of a child that never failed to make Yaz smile.

“Wait! Yaz, close your eyes!” The Doctor said, and Yaz obliged. Gently taking Yaz’s hands in her own, she stepped (carefully) backwards out of the TARDIS doors, guiding Yaz out and away from the blue box.

“Okay, open them.” The Doctor dropped Yaz’s hands and moved to her side, just as her girlfriend opened her eyes. 

“Woah,” Yaz breathed, taking in the sight before her. They were standing at the edge of a vast lake, banked by mountains. Around the perimeter of the lake was an explosion of fiery colours, reds, yellows and oranges painting the landscape.

“Where are we?”

“Well, this is Muskoka. Planet named after a place in Canada, very famous for it’s autumnal colours! Turns out, you humans love this season so much that, in the 33rd century, you create the perfect autumnal planet! Year-round colours, bright sunshine, slight chill in the air and not a chance of rain!” The Doctor grinned at Yaz, clearly very pleased with herself.

“So you mean, eternal autumn? I never have to think about it becoming winter?” Yaz whispered, so the boys can’t hear her.

“Yup. Only the best for my Yaz.” The Doctor replied, taking Yaz’s hand in her own and pulling her towards the edge of the lake. 

“I’m pretty sure there’s a canoe rental about fifteen minutes walk this way. Fancy a go?”

“Of course,” Yaz smiled, tucking her body into the Doctor’s and beginning their stroll along the edge of the lake. The further they walked, the more Yaz couldn’t believe just how vibrant the colours were. It was like an explosion of warmth and light, and she couldn’t get enough of it. In fact, she never wanted to leave.

* * *

Half an hour later, the group were settled into one canoe; apparently this planet made them big enough for all four of them to fit into comfortably. Less comfortable was the addition of Ryan and the Doctor’s erratic paddling styles, Yaz and Graham weren’t sure which one of them was worse.

Upon getting into the canoe, the Doctor had pointed to the other side of the lake (well the fam assumed it was, they couldn’t actually see land, the lake was so big), and informed them that there was a little town they could visit and grab a bite to eat. The fam had happily agreed, Graham perking up almost comically at the mention of food, and that was what had landed them here, in the middle of the gigantic lake, seemingly going in circles.

“Are we even going in the right direction anymore?” Yaz huffed, paddling extra hard to try and counteract the Doctor’s paddling (if it could even be described as that) to the side of her.

“Err, I think so.” The Doctor abruptly stopped paddling and whipped her sonic out of her pocket, waving it around in the air. She analysed the results with a scronch of her face.

“Well we’re definitely headed for _something._ There are loads of little towns around this lake, I’m sure if we keep going, we’ll find one soon enough.” With that, she shoved her sonic back in her pocket and picked up her oar again, rocking the boat as she began. The fam had to scramble for their own oars to stop them going in circles again.

It was a further half-hour before they reached land. Thankfully there was a small jetty where they could land their canoe, saving one of them from a dip in the chilly water. Less fortunately, they were greeted with what was definitely not a town. Instead of buildings, there was corn taller than their heads, as far as the eye could see.

“Doc, I hate to point out the obvious, but this don’t like a place where I can get a decent sarnie,” Graham grumbled, a slight scowl on his face. The Doctor looked like a guilty puppy.

“Well, we appear to have happened upon one of the ‘fun’ towns on this planet. Same as all the others, except they have a little challenge for you to get through first before you can get in. At least this one is just a corn maze!”

The fam collectively rolled their eyes, but followed the Doctor anyway. They knew to trust her instincts. And her instincts were right.

Not ten minutes later, they stepped out of the corn maze and into a small town square, surrounded by charming log and stone cabins, the reds and golds of the forest still present in the leaves on the ground and the huge maple tree in the centre of the square. There was a busker under the stoop of one of the buildings, and a few small stalls selling roasted chestnuts, hot donuts and pumpkin soup.

The boys immediately wandered off in search of the best food option, but Yaz hung back with the Doctor.

“Thank you. Really. This —” she broke off to wave her arms around the square “— is perfect. You’re amazing, you know that?”

The Doctor’s blush was visible, rapidly creeping from behind her rainbow scarf and up her neck, finally painting her pale cheeks a dusty red.

“Anything for you, Yaz.”


	2. Fancy Dress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After taking the fam to a fancy ball, the Doctor wants to try some different clothes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another one-shot. I had the idea for this and just wrote it in one sitting because my brain wouldn't shut up about it until I did!
> 
> Enjoy some early relationship thasmin fluff

“Well, I think I’m going to have to call it a night,” Graham announced. The fam had all come back from a fancy ball around a half hour earlier, and after a quick pit-stop in the kitchen for cups of tea all around, they were beginning to feel the exhaustion from the night of dancing and mingling.

“Sounds good, Graham. The Doctor should probably be heading that way too.” Yaz laughed softly, glancing down at the Doctor who was leaning heavily into her side, head resting on her shoulder and a blissed out expression on her face.

“I don’t need to go to bed, Yaz!” The Doctor protested immediately, sitting up with such an offended and forlorn expression on her face that it was hard not to laugh at her.

“Are y’sure you’re not drunk, Doc?” Graham asked, squinting at the Doctor as he scrutinized her face.

“Nah, us Time Lords don’t get drunk, unless it’s ginger. And there were no ginger in any of those drinks. Or Earth alcohol, I checked.” She flashed a smile towards Yaz in regard to the last statement. She always appreciated that the Doctor would check there was food and drink she could have before she took them to an event, and if not, she would keep a supply in her pockets for Yaz. Graham was forever going on about how it was clear favouritism that the Doctor would carry snacks for Yaz and not him.

However, watching the Doctor’s quick change from half-asleep to practically fizzing with excitement, Yaz was convinced she was at least a little bit tipsy. Alien she might be, but not even the Doctor would flit between moods that obviously and with such speed. There might not have been alcohol  _ or _ ginger in those drinks, but there was definitely something, and it was having more of an effect on the Time Lord than any of the three humans.

Ryan goes to make his way out of the kitchen. “Right, we’ll leave you two to it. I’ll be in the games room for a bit, you heading to bed gramps?”

Graham nodded in agreement and he and Ryan made their way out of the room, leaving Yaz alone with the Doctor.

“Aha! Boys are gone,” grinned the Doctor, hopping up from her chair and skipping over to the cupboard that was full to the brim with custard creams. She pulled the jar down, took one and shoved it in her mouth whole, crumbs spraying everywhere.

“You … wanted them gone?” Yaz asked, running her fingers through the ends of her hair. She was getting more and more tired by the minute.

“Yeah. Not actually drunk or anything. Well, maybe a little bit, but that’s not the point.”

“Okay, well what is the point?”

“Well you see —” the Doctor started, swiping excess crumbs from around her mouth “— I wanted to ask you something, but I was a bit embarrassed to ask in front of the boys.”

“Sit.” Yaz patted the chair next to hers and the Doctor sank into it, turning to face Yaz with her chin in her palm and an expression akin to a lost puppy on her face. 

“What did you want to ask me?”

“Well, there were, erm … there were a lot of people wearing dresses there tonight, really pretty ones. Although not as pretty as yours.”

Yaz blushed, and the Doctor did too.

“I dunno, they just look like fun … “ she tailed off, shrugging.

“Doctor, would you like to try on some dresses?”

“Yeah —“ she broke off, looking abashed “— could you help me?”

“Of course,” Yaz smiled, downing the last of her cup of tea.

“You’re amazin’ Yaz! To the TARDIS wardrobes!”

“What, now?” Yaz baulked, watching the Doctor bounding out the room.

“Yes! Come on, let’s go!” 

Yaz sighed, putting her empty mug in the sink. She was quickly realising she wasn’t going to get to bed any time soon.

* * *

Half an hour later, Yaz was standing at the edge of a huge pile of clothes. The Doctor was… somewhere in the pile. All she could really see was the very top of a tousled mop of blonde hair. Which was probably a good thing, since the Doctor was just wandering around in a white vest top and her boxer shorts as she tried on dresses. As a result, Yaz was finding it very hard to concentrate on the task at hand.

“Yaz, I don’t really think any of these dresses are working for me.” The Doctor’s muffled voice came from somewhere near Yaz, and then seconds later her head popped up on the complete opposite side of the pile. Yaz shook her head, laughing.

“What’s not working for ya, space girl?”

The Doctor huffed, standing up properly and planting her hands on her hips. “The corsety one was too squishy. I am a fan of breathing.”

Yaz chuckled.

“I kinda liked the ball gown, but it was far too heavy. Sorta the opposite problem with the miniskirt, definitely not enough of it. And that fitted one was way too … huggy.”

“Huggy?” Yaz questioned, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, you could see the shape of me too much. Still not used to bein’ a woman.”

Yaz nodded slowly, trying to process the Doctor’s opinions of the different types of garments she had tried on. Then, a thought occurred to her.

“Doctor I’ve got an idea, put your regular shirts back on and wait for me here,” Yaz instructed, already darting off to a different section of the wardrobe. She had recalled seeing something while choosing her outfit earlier that she had a feeling the Doctor would enjoy.

Yaz was able to find the section of the wardrobe fairly easily; she had a feeling the ship was tired of the mess the Doctor had created and wanted to hurry the process along. Yaz smiled at the thought.

“Not that, not that,  _ definitely  _ not that,” she muttered to herself and she rifled through drawers and rails of clothing. There was one specific item she was looking for.

It took her almost ten minutes to find it (maybe the TARDIS wasn’t feeling so helpful after all) but when she did, she announced it with a triumphant “aha!”

Yaz made her way back to the Doctor, brandishing the item in question in glee. The Time Lord, however, was nowhere to be seen.

“Doctor? Where did you go?”

“Over here, Yaz!” Came a call, and Yaz followed the sound.

“Yaz! I found a whole corridor of dressing rooms, and there are little seats! This probably would have made the whole thing a lot easier, huh?”

Yaz rolled her eyes. Of course she had found the dressing rooms  _ now,  _ and not when they had first started and the Doctor had decided to strip down to just her underclothes right in front of Yaz.

Spotting a stripey-socked foot kicking out from underneath one of the doors (why had she insisted on keeping her socks on?), Yaz padded over and passed the material under the door.

“Here, space girl, try this. It’s a skirt so you can wear it with your regular shirts and braces, it might be a bit easier to get used to than a whole dress,” she explained, taking a seat on the little bench opposite the cubicle the Doctor was occupying.

It’s not long before Yaz heard the telltale  _ click _ of the Doctor clipping her braces into place. Soon after the door unlocked and swung open to reveal the Doctor, still looking a bit awkward but much more comfortable and completely adorable. She was wearing a skirt that was the same colour as her regular culottes, and fell just past her knees, making it a similar length.

“What d’you think?” Yaz asked, standing up and surveying the Time Lord’s new look. It was definitely more ‘her’ than some of the previous gowns she’d tried on.

“It’s … better,” she concluded, looking down at the skirt. 

“Try giving it a spin, I have a feeling you might enjoy that.”

Looking at Yaz warily, the Doctor gave a few experimental twists of her hips, before commuting to fully spinning in a circle. The blue material billowed out around her, rippling and making a satisfying  _ swoosh _ sound as it moved.

The Doctor grinned. “Woah, Yaz! That’s amazing! Now  _ this  _ is what I was after. It’s so  _ swishy!” _

“I’m glad,” Yaz grinned back, watching as the Doctor gave the skirt another spin, then another, then another.

“Doctor, careful you don’t get dizzy!” Yaz warned, and the Doctor stopped abruptly, frowning at Yaz.

“Time Lords don’t get dizzy, Yaz! Watch!”

And watch Yaz did, in disbelief as the Doctor started to spin and twist and turn up and down the corridor. She managed two and a half lengths, giggling with the excitement of a child the whole time, before losing her footing and crashing full force into Yaz, effectively pinning her against the wall.

“Y’sure about that, Doctor?” Yaz teased, trying to distract herself from just  _ how much  _ of the Time Lord was pressed up against her.

“Very sure! Just tripped, Time Lords don’t get dizzy.” She was sorely proven wrong when she tried to stand up, wavering a second before immediately falling sideways. Thankfully Yaz caught her easily.

“Okay, maybe a little bit,” she laughed, righting herself more slowly this time.

“So, how do you feel about the skirt?” Yaz asked, genuinely curious. She had only ever seen the Doctor in a few different colour variations of the same andorgynous outfit, and was definitely surprised when she had decided she wanted to try on dresses earlier.

“It’s great, Yaz! I mean, not practical for adventuring or anything, I’ll stick to trousers for that thank you very much. But it’s nice, less … feminine I guess than the others I guess. Doesn’t highlight all the woman parts, still can’t get used to that a lot. I think I might wear it around the TARDIS a bit, the swishing is really fun. Oh, or if we go to one of those really hot resort planets, I bet it’s cooler than my trousers!”

Yaz simply smiled, watching the happy time lord rocking on her toes and grinning down at her new skirt.

“Thanks Yaz. For not judging me.”

“Of course, Doctor.”

* * *

A few days later, the Doctor did indeed take them to a resort planet, complete with pink-sand beaches, a glittering ocean and all the ice cream you could possibly eat. The Doctor was the last to step out of the TARDIS, her new skirt replacing the usual look of her culottes.

“Nice look there, Doc,” Graham smiled, giving her a nod of the head.

“It suits ya,” Ryan added, giving Yaz a not-so-subtle thumbs up.

“Thanks guys! Yaz helped me pick it out, makes a nice change sometimes.”

Yaz grinned bashfully, and then, when the Doctor linked her arm with hers and pulled her in the direction of one of the many ice-cream stands, she blushed even further. The warmth in her cheeks definitely wasn’t from the four suns in the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I had the vision of thirteen spinning around in a really wide skirt and just had to write it.
> 
> If you have time, please consider leaving a comment, they make my day!
> 
> Feel free to prompt me or come chat!  
> Twitter: @emmyphant_  
> Tumblr: @emmyphant


	3. Earthquake (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a misreading of a pretty important date, the Doctor lands her fam in a precarious situation in San Francisco in the early 1900s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is quite angsty, but I hope you all enjoy anyway. Some TW:
> 
> \- earthquakes  
> \- trapped/claustrophobia  
> \- description of injury
> 
> This is established-relationship thasmin :)

Pain.

That’s the first thing that registers in Yasmin Khan’s brain when she comes to. Sharp, shooting, aching, pulsing, burning. It radiates out from her chest and her leg, rendering her breathless. The second thing she registers is the solid, heavy weight across her. The third is a loud groan coming from her right. A loud groan that sounds suspiciously like Graham.

Gingerly moving her head, Yaz is relieved when, despite a little stiffness, it still moves. Although there’s something warm and sticky trickling down the side of her face. Probably blood. She sort of hopes that’s what it is. Turning her head to the side, Yaz’s heart sinks when all she sees is a huge pile of bricks. The left presents the same view.

Trying to take a calming breath, she finds that’s actually quite difficult when there’s something lying across her chest. 

“Graham?” She calls, trying to keep the panic out of her voice.

There’s another groan, and a cough. “Yaz? Is that you?”

Yaz sighs in relief. She’s never been so glad to hear Graham’s voice

_Okay Khan, think it through, how did you end up here?_

Slowly, things start coming back to Yaz. The Doctor had brought them on a little holiday, a break from the recent madness of chasing bad guys across alien planets. A break from the danger. 

_So much for that._

So. San Francisco. Early 1900s. Except the Doctor hadn’t fully checked the dates. Upon arriving at a small hotel, she and Graham had gone to check out the restaurant while the Doctor and Ryan had gone out to explore the city. Less than two minutes after they had split up, the whole world around them had started to tremble. Then crack. Then splinter. Yaz could have sworn she saw the ground roll in waves as the Earth shook. The sound of the ceiling caving in is about the last thing she can remember.

“Yeah … I’m stuck though. Are you? I can’t see you, there’s too much … stuff in the way.”

“I can’t see you either, cockle. There’s something on my arm though, think I can move it.”

Yaz swallows nervously. “Be careful, Graham.”

She hears shuffling, a muffled curse and a not so muffled groan, then all of a sudden Graham’s concerned, albeit fuzzy face, is hovering above her.

“Graham, how did you get here so fast?” she frowns, immediately regretting the action when it pulls at the tender skin of her forehead.

“It wasn’t fast, trust me. I think you might have passed out again for a bit.” He grimaces apologetically, and that’s when Yaz notices he’s protectively clutching his arm to his chest. His wrist definitely shouldn’t be at that angle.

“Your arm … “ she murmurs, already having to fight against unconsciousness again. The longer whatever is lying across her chest stays there, the harder it is to breath. The dust falling from the space above them where there was once a ceiling isn’t helping either.

“Yeah.” Graham grimaces again. “Definitely broken. Can’t really feel it at the moment though.”

“You’re in shock,” Yaz concludes, swallowing against the nausea that rises in her throat at the combined sight of an injured Graham and her own pain radiating through her in ever-stronger waves.

“How are you so calm?” Graham asks.

Yaz frowns and then immediately remembers that actually, that hurts quite a lot. “Police training. Gotta stay calm and assess the situation. Although, it would be a lot easier if I could actually see anything other than the lack of a ceiling.”

“I might be able to move that plank of wood across your middle,” Graham offers, using his good arm to gesture. 

_Ahh, so that’s what it is._

“If you can, it’s getting pretty hard to breathe. Please don’t hurt yourself if you can’t though,” she adds, just for good measure.

“Don’t worry cockle. I’ll be careful. The Doc wouldn’t let me hear the end of it if I got either one of us even more hurt.”

There’s a small shuffle, and then she sees Graham’s feet land in the space next to her head. She grits her teeth and squeezes her eyes shut against the pain as Graham shifts the wood lying across her torso. Then suddenly, the pressure is gone, and she takes in deep, if dusty, lungfuls of air, despite how much it makes her ribs protest.

 _Yep, definitely very bruised at best, probably broken,_ she concludes.

“Any sign of the Doctor or Ryan?” Yaz asks. Very quickly, all she wants is the Doctor’s comforting presence to tell her everything’s going to be okay.

“I’m not sure, cockle. They can’t have gone far though …”

 _Unless they’re trapped too._ Yaz silently finishes the thought for him.

“Yaz? Graham? It’s me and Ryan”

Yaz has never been so relieved to hear that familiar, _warm_ voice ringing out towards her.

“We’re over ‘ere, Doc,” Graham calls, slowly straightening back up. His feet stay beside Yaz’s head.

“Oh thank the stars. Is Yaz with you?” The Doctor sounds scared, she’s not sure she’s ever heard the Doctor sound truly scared before.

“Yeah, she’s down here. Pretty well stuck though.”

Yaz can hear the heavy-booted footsteps getting closer, and she breathes a sigh of relief when a pale face appears in her eye line.

“Oh Gods, Yaz,” the Doctor whispers, her voice hoarse and face somehow going a shade even paler. That’s when Yaz knows it must be bad. 

Subtly shooing Graham out the way, the Doctor kneels down in the small space beside Yaz’s head and cups her face gently.

“We’ll get you out of here, I promise.”

Yaz nods, carefully. 

“You alright, gramps?” Yaz can hear Ryan’s voice coming from somewhere close to her feet, and it’s another relief to know that he too, seems to be relatively unharmed.

“Definitely broken my arm. Fine other than that though.” The wince in his voice tells Yaz he’s definitely far from ‘fine’, but she also knows that Graham is probably only saying that because she’s in a much worse-off position than him. And that makes her scared.

“Okay …” Yaz can hear the cogs turning in the Doctor’s brain as she assesses the situation in front of them. 

“Gramps, can you move your fingers at all? That’s a thing you’re supposed to ask if someone breaks their arm, right?” Ryan asks, he sounds unsure.

“Yes, you’re right Ryan. Checks for nerve damage. So, can you Graham?”

Yaz hears Graham hiss through his teeth as he presumably tries to move his fingers.

“Ahh, okay, that’s good.”

Yaz can hear the relief in the Doctor’s voice. Graham must be able to do that, then.

“Right, Ryan. Take your jacket off, use it to make a makeshift sling for Graham. Tie the arms behind his neck. It’s not ideal, but it’s better than nothing until we can get you back to the TARDIS.”

There’s another bout of shuffling and then the Doctor is knelt at Yaz’s side again, tenderly brushing some of Yaz’s hair out of her face and looking at her sadly.

“M’really sorry, Yaz. I should’ve checked the dates, I should’ve been more careful. But we will do everything in our power to get you out of here safe and sound, love.”

“Doctor, please don’t be sorry. It was a mistake. Could’ve happened to anyone.” Yaz tentatively reaches out a hand to grab the Doctor’s own, receiving a reassuring squeeze in return.

“Yeah, a mistake I made though. I can’t believe I let you get hurt …”

Despite how much she’s concentrating on _not_ screaming in pain at this precise moment, Yaz can recognise that the Doctor is starting to spiral, and so she tugs on her hand to bring her out of it.

“Doctor, it’s not your fault. But maybe we can talk about it later, yeah? When I’m not stuck under … whatever it is,” Yaz pleads. There’s definitely a better time and place to have this conversation, preferably when she’s safe back on the TARDIS and not feeling like she’s going to throw up any second.

“Right yes. A very large wooden beam, by the way.”

Yaz takes another shaky inhale as the Doctor removes her hand, mourning the contact immediately.

“Alright, we need to clear some of this stuff away from Yaz so we can get her out as smoothly as possible. Move the rubble carefully, don’t let anything else fall on her. If you see any pieces of wood about the same length as Yaz’s leg, put them to one side. We’ll need to brace it before we can move her.”

Yaz tries her best to stay calm and still while the others start working to clear the space around her, but with each passing moment, it gets harder and harder. She doesn’t like to be the one that needs saving, she’s a police officer for goodness sake, she’s the one that should be doing the saving.

“Yaz, you’re alright, we’re almost done. We’ll have you out in no time at all.”

Yaz knows the Doctor's nattering is as much to reassure herself as it is to help Yaz. She doesn’t realise she’s crying until the Doctor pauses, reaching down to wipe away the damp from her cheeks, dropping a butterfly kiss to her forehead.

“Don’t cry, Yaz. I know your leg hurts, but are you hurting anywhere else?” The Doctor gently strokes Yaz’s cheek, and somehow that hurts more than the pain pulsing through her body.

“My chest … and my head.”

“There was another plank of wood across her middle earlier, Doc, but I managed to lift it off,” Graham supplies. Yaz can hear how laboured his breathing is becoming.

“That’s good Graham, that’s good.” 

Yaz feels the Doctor’s hands searching through her hairline, hissing when they come into contact with a particularly sore spot.

“Ahh. You’ve got quite a gash there. It seems to have mostly stopped bleeding though, that’s good.”

The Doctor stands up again, and Yaz can just about see that her hands are planted firmly on her hips.

“Ryan, I need you to help me get this beam off Yaz. Graham, I need you to hold Yaz’s hand, because this is going to hurt.”

Yaz hears some shuffling around, and then Graham is kneeling down beside her, albeit with a grimace, and he squeezes her hand reassuringly. Raising her head just slightly, she can see the Doctor and Ryan standing either side of her, presumably at each end of the beam.

“Right, Ryan. We count one, two, three, and then lift. That way.” The Doctor nods her head towards Yaz’s feet.

Yaz drops her head back to the floor, and braces herself. When she hears the Doctor start counting, she grits her teeth and squeezes Graham’s hand in anticipation. She groans when the weight is suddenly gone from her leg, and the blood comes rushing back to the limb. It lands with a _thump_ that reverberates through the ground somewhere near her feet. Yaz really doesn’t want to think how much damage it’s done to her leg if that’s how hard it lands when dropped from only a few feet.

“That’s it, breathe deep, cockle.” Graham’s voice cuts through the ringing in her ears, and Yaz focuses all her attention on that. Not her leg, not the Doctor placing planks of wood either side of it, not the Doctor taking her shirt off … wait, what?

“Erm, Doctor? I know this is sweaty work, but why’re you taking your shirt off?” Yaz can’t help but laugh a little at Ryan’s slightly horrified tone.

“We need something to strap the boards to Yaz’s leg. So —” she broke off, and Yaz heard the sound of ripping fabric “— I’m using this. Don’t worry, I’ll keep the white bit on. No-one gets to see my underwear except Yaz!” she quips, and Yaz groans again, although this time in amusement and embarrassment rather than pain.

“Really, Doctor?”

“Yes. And it made you smile. Although you might not at this bit.” Yaz could hear the grimace in her voice.

And boy, was she right. Yaz’ vision swam and she cried out loudly as the Doctor gently eased her injured leg from the floor to slip the scraps of maroon t-shirt underneath before efficiently tying them in secure knots to create a temporary brace.

She felt Graham let go of her hand, but it was swiftly replaced by the Doctor’s, who squeezed it tightly and smoothed the other over her face.

“Well done, you did so well. I’m going to carry you back to the TARDIS now. Ryan’s going to help me lift you, then he’s going to support Graham while I carry you. Okay?”

Yaz nodded, knowing she probably wouldn’t be able to prepare herself for the pain she was about to be put through. She felt the Doctor arrange her arms in a neutral position across her stomach, and readied herself as best she could.

“Right, Ryan. Same as last time, one, two, three, lift.”

Yaz definitely wasn’t prepared, and was vaguely aware of her own scream before everything went extremely black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Honestly writing entirely from the POV of someone who is stuck flat on their back is a *challenge*. I promise the next couple of days are much more fluffy and lighthearted. Also! If you want a part 2 to this particular one-shot, I'm considering writing it, so please let me know :)
> 
> If you have time, please consider leaving a comment, they make my day 💛
> 
> Come chat and/or prompt me on:  
> Twitter: @emmyphant_  
> Tumblr: @emmyphant


	4. Lamppost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo meets her new neighbour in less than an ideal way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Human AU first meeting for you! In case it wasn't too obvious, Leo is 13, and very very clumsy. Enjoy!
> 
> Minor tw for blood, but it's nothing major.

Leo stepped out of her front door with a wide smile on her face, more than ready to face the day ahead. She’d woken up on time, had her favourite breakfast, the chapter of the book she was reading had been particularly satisfying, and now, by some small miracle, she was on time for work. 

Locking the door behind her and pocketing the key carefully, she plugged her prized headphones into her phone and slipped the padded pieces over the top of her ears. Navy blue with rainbow stripes across the middle, they were a perfect match for the wine coloured material of her uniform polo shirt and beige shorts. 

Making sure the headphones were sitting properly on her head, she tested them with a firm shake of her head. The device looked almost comically large on her mop of blonde hair, but then again, she had always had a bit of a small head. Ryan was constantly making fun of her for it. Deciding that her precious headphones weren’t going to vacate her ears any time soon, she pressed play on her favourite 80s playlist and set off down the street towards the bus stop.

She waved a hello to any of her neighbours that were out in front of their houses; Wilf tending to his flowers, Rory in his scrubs also heading to work, Clara bundling the children she nannied out of their front door to take them to school. This was perhaps Leo’s favourite part of her day, getting a little glimpse into the lives of her neighbours and sharing a cheerful greeting to start the day off properly.

When she got to the very last house on the street, the one on the corner, Leo remembered that someone new had moved in just a few days ago, but she hadn’t had a chance to say hello yet. Although, it looked like today would be her day, as there was a figure on the front doorstep, seeming to be in the process of moving boxes from the garage into the house. As she stood up straight and peered out into the street, Leo got a proper look at her.

She was pretty,  _ really _ pretty. She was dressed in denim shorts, a white tank top and pale blue flannel shirt, sleeves pushed up to her elbows. The whole outfit revealed a lot of very toned muscle. Her long, dark hair was woven into a simple braid that hung down her back, and the top of her head was covered by a well-worn baseball cap, flyaway hairs poking out the sides. Leo gulped when she raised an arm to wipe the sheen of sweat from her brow, which definitely wasn't only down to the sunny day.

Leo was completely transfixed by the woman in front of her, that she couldn’t stop staring. When the woman looked up and caught sight of her, she offered a wave and a friendly smile in the blonde’s direction, Leo was initially mortified by the fact that she had probably been caught staring. But then she was so distracted by the fact that this gorgeous woman had paid attention to her, that she was completely transfixed on her smile. So much so, in fact, that …

_ SMACK _

Leo groaned as she staggered backwards from the lamppost, pain blossoming out from her nose. Her headphones fell from her head, landing with a soft  _ thump _ around her shoulders. Tentatively reaching a hand up to touch her nose, she sighed when it came away bloody. Just as she reached the hand back up to pinch her throbbing nose, a voice cut through her haze.

“Oh my god, are you okay? You walked right into that lamppost.”

The woman was standing right in front of her, and Leo cringed.

_ Great way to meet your new neighbour,  _ she chastised herself internally.

“Me? Oh all good, peachy,” she grinned, wincing when she realised that actually, that hurt quite a lot.

“Hmm, I don’t think you are. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Leo drew her breath in sharply when the woman wrapped her arm around her shoulders, steering her off the path and up towards her front door.

_ Not only did you just completely embarrass yourself in front of your very attractive new neighbour, but now she’s leading you inside her house to clean up your bloody nose. You’ve got no chance now. _

The inside of the house was significantly cooler than the sun outside, and Leo breathed a sigh of relief as she was sat down in a dining chair.

“Here, tilt your head back and pinch these over your nose,” the woman instructed, handing her a handful of kitchen roll and pushing her forehead lightly to tilt her head back. Leo could hear her rustling about in what was presumably the kitchen behind her, she hadn’t really had the chance to have a proper look as she was steered in.

“So, you just moved in then?” Leo cringed at her attempt at casual conversation, of  _ course _ she had just moved in, the house was filled with packing boxes still for goodness sakes.

“Yeah, only yesterday. Sorry it’s a bit of a mess in here,” she called back from the kitchen. “What’s your name?”

“Erm, Leo. Well technically it’s Leonora, but I think Leo suits me way better.” She tilted her head back down and removed the kitchen roll from her nose when the woman sat down opposite her, dumping a first-aid kit on the table.

“Well, nice to meet you Leo. Do you live on the street?”

“Yeah, number 13,” she grinned, wincing again when she remembered for the second time in less than ten minutes that that really did quite hurt.

“Careful,” the woman chided, squinting a little as she scrutinised Leo’s nose. “I’m Yasmin, by the way. Yaz to my friends.”

She passed Leo a bag of frozen something wrapped in a tea towel, and Leo held it to her nose obediently, immediately feeling the numbing effects.

“Nice to meet ya, Yaz.”

Yaz raised her eyebrows. “Going straight for Yaz? Bold move.”

“Well, I am sitting in your kitchen while you clean my bloody nose, that probably makes you a friend.”

“True true,” Yaz clicked her tongue and leaned back in her chair, swinging one leg up to rest her ankle on the opposite thigh and folding her arms.

Leo gulped.

“Anyway, don’t think you’ve broken your nose, you’re just going to have a good bruise and probably a black eye.”

“How do you know all this?” Leo asked, genuinely confused as to how this mystery woman knew exactly how to react to someone walking face-first into a lamppost.

“I’m a climbing instructor, up in the peaks. Seen plenty of bloody noses before,” she shrugged, drumming her fingertips against her biceps.

_ That would explain the muscles then, _ Leo concluded.

“What do you do?”

“Zookeeper,” Leo supplied, shifting her elbow to expose the logo stitched into her polo shirt.

“Ahh, work with lions by any chance?”

“Huh?”

“Well, your name’s Leo, would make sense for you to work with lions. Sorry, bad joke.”

“Oh, no. Primates gal, me. My favourites are the lemurs.”

Yaz nodded, leaning forward again to gently pry the makeshift ice pack away from Leo’s nose.

“It looks better, you’re probably alright to leave,” she concluded, standing up to show Leo out the front door.

“Just be more careful next time you’re walking down the street and staring at girls okay?” Yaz leaned against the door frame, casually crossing her arms and smirked knowingly.

Leo’s eyes widened in panic, truly a deer caught in the headlights.

“S’alright, you’re cute even when you walk into lampposts.”

Leo just nodded dumbly, slowly backing away down the garden path.

“So, I’ll see you around then?” She asked hopefully, fiddling with the wire of her headphones.

“See you around, Leo”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and all the kind comments so far! I'm somehow managing to keep on top of this, which is a small miracle in itself 😂
> 
> Please feel free to leave a comment, they make my day. If you have anything you would like to prompt me with, don't hesitate to leave it in the comments below, or drop me a message on tumblr or twitter.
> 
> Tumblr: @emmyphant  
> Twitter: @emmyphant_


	5. Bonfire Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaz takes the Doctor on a date for Bonfire Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little established-relationship, Bonfire Night thasmin drabble for you all!
> 
> Also if you're in the UK and celebrating tonight, please remember to celebrate safely, and be considerate of how late you set off fireworks 💛

“You look like you’re about to ask me for something, Yaz,” the Doctor announces from where she’s half-under the console, tinkering away with something.

Yaz, standing behind her, baulks as the alien seemingly has eyes in the back of her head.

“How d’you know that?”

“I can sense it, Yaz,” she replies, putting down the wrench in her hand. She stands up and turns around, pushing her goggles up onto her head. At Yaz’s further look of surprise, the Doctor laughs. “Well, or that panel there is quite reflective.” She points back behind her at a shiny metal panel that she’d just been working beside, and sure enough, shows their reflection.

“I was just messing with you. Anyway, you wanted to ask me something?”

“Oh right, yeah,” Yaz starts, twisting her hands into the hem of her favourite orange jumper, the one with the star. “So, every year on Bonfire Night, I go with my family to an organised fireworks display, and well … they … erm, they suggested that I could bring you along too. I know it’ll be nothing like what we saw on that New Year’s with the dalek, and I totally understand if you don’t want to or anything, I just thought it might be nice?”

In quite a contrast to their usual relationship dynamic, the Doctor cuts Yaz off with a small kiss, smirking.

“Of course I’d love to go with you and your fam, Yaz! Fireworks with the Khans, what more could you want?” she grins, already practically vibrating with excitement.

“Thank you, Doctor. Just maybe don’t call them my fam? We should probably just keep that between us and the boys.”

* * *

A few days later, Yaz is wrapped up in a huge duffle coat, navy scarf and purple beanie, huddled into the Doctor’s side as the first fireworks start to explode overhead. Despite the chill in the air and the fact that the rest of the Khan clan are barely visible beneath their layers of clothing, the Doctor is still only wearing her usual outfit, with the addition of the rainbow scarf that she had worn the last time they had watched fireworks together.

“Are you having fun, Yaz?” The Time Lord asks, her soft smile illuminated in the pinks and purples and greens of the explosives in the sky above them.

“Yeah,” she nods back, shivering involuntarily. Yaz watches in amusement as the Doctor moves from beside her to behind her, draping her arms over her shoulders and pressing herself up against Yaz’s back.

“Doctor, what are you doing?”

“I’m being your new blanket Yaz. Now shush and watch the fireworks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please feel free to leave a comment, they make my day. If you have anything you would like to prompt me with, don't hesitate to leave it in the comments below, or drop me a message on tumblr or twitter.
> 
> Tumblr: @emmyphant  
> Twitter: @emmyphant_


	6. See You Again (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Doctor left them behind ten months ago on Gallifrey, Yasmin Khan hasn't been the same. That is, until, one night on duty, she gets an intriguing call that could give her the answers she's been waiting for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So as the title would suggest, this is part one of a series of one-shots about 13 coming back from prison. It was just going to be one piece, but then it ended up being way longer than I expected so I've split it up into three 😂. I'm also going to post it as its own separate work once all three are up in this series of one-shots, just to make it easier for people to read if they just want a thasmin prison reuniting fic.
> 
> Warnings for discussions of mental health, specifically for grief and depression.

Yasmin Khan sits in the driver’s seat of the police cruiser, starting resolutely at the raindrops chasing each other down the window. Beyond the thick glass, the city of Sheffield lies dark, dirty, quiet.  _ Quite like me, _ she thinks. Ever since the Doctor had disappeared off on her suicide mission among the ruins of Gallifrey almost ten months ago, Yaz had been dragging herself through everyday life with the very scraps of her remaining energy.

At first, getting out of bed had been impossible. Her limbs felt like lead, so she lay starting at the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling. When she had first stuck them up at age nine, they had been full of dreams and hope for her future. Now they were full of memories and grief. But she found that however hard she tried, she couldn’t will herself to take them down. She couldn’t. In some strange way, it felt like dishonouring the Doctor’s memory. So on her ceiling they had stayed.

On the tenth day, she had hit the anger stage of the grief with full force — if that’s what one could call it, how could she grieve if she didn’t know whether the Doctor was dead or alive? She had cried and screamed and punched things until her throat was hoarse and her knuckles were bloody. Sitting on her bedroom floor, she had divulged everything to her mother while she attended to the split and bruised skin of her hands. Who the Doctor really was,  _ is,  _ how they had met each other, what they had done together, how Yaz really feels about her. Perhaps the most importantly, that Yaz had never been able to tell her truly how she felt about her. Her mum had then simply held her, forced her to take leave from work and put her on a waiting list for grief counselling.

Yaz had tried to argue that it would be no use, how could a grief counselor help her get over the disappearance of her time-travelling alien best friend and potentially unrequited love? But, Najia had been unrelenting and so Yaz had attended all ten sessions. It must have worked to some extent, because after the fifth, she had been cleared to go back to work and by the tenth, the image of the Doctor shaking her off and walking away from them no longer haunted her every time she closed her eyes. Just some of them.

Yaz had eventually passed her probationary period and become a fully-fledged police constable, but it still felt as though something was missing. She had worked hard for two years to get to that point, to graduate, but she had to force the smile onto her face that day. Despite being mostly free from the monotony of parking disputes and teenage troublemakers, her routine now still feels mechanical and forced, like she’s _ waiting _ to get back to her life with the Doctor.

Moving into her own flat had helped a little; a place where she could start over, a place that wasn’t steeped in memories, a place where she could gain some independence. But, without her parents and her sister around twenty four-seven to distract her, she had quickly fallen into a routine of working, eating and sleeping. Existing, rather than actually living.

Now, sitting in a steamed up patrol car with her partner at 2am on a Tuesday watching the raindrops roll down the window, the grief hits her again. Or loss. Whatever you want to call it, there’s not really a word to describe “my best friend went on a suicide mission to stop a new alien army taking over the universe and I don’t know if she survived or not and I’ll probably never know.”

Anyway.

Whatever it is, it hits her. She draws back from the window, choosing to stare at her hands in her lap instead.

“Penny for them?”

Yaz’s head whips up to look at her partner next to her, her face illuminated in an eerie mixture of blue and yellow from the dashboard of the car and the streetlamp outside.

“Hmm?”

“You just looked very deep in thought there, Yasmin,” she smiles, the movement crinkling the skin around her eyes. So very Doctor-like.

Yaz likes PC Laura Redman. She is upbeat, positive, and most importantly, respects Yaz. She had been on the force longer than Yaz, eight years longer in fact, but Yaz still finds that they got along well. In fact, she had secretly been extremely glad that she had been partnered with her immediately after her graduation. It had seemed that the feeling had been mutual; Laura’s previous partner had been old, male, and far too traditional in his views about women as their place in the world. So when she had been assigned a young, freshly-graduated female officer, she had been over the moon. In turn, Yaz is glad her first partner as an actual officer properly respects her and listens to her opinion, rather than pushing her to one side like previous partners had done.

Could she trust Laura? Of course she would never tell her about the whole regenerating, time travelling alien thing, but could she still discuss things with her?

“Just a few things on my mind,” she reassures, taking a sip of the takeaway coffee cup sitting in the cup holder between them. It’s gone cold. She grimaces.

“Well if you want to talk about them, I’m all ears. Plus it’s 2am on a Tuesday at the edge of Sheffield, I doubt we’ll be getting many calls.”

Yaz chuckles softly in agreement, thumbing the edge of her stab-vest. It’s usually uncomfortable to sit in, but the late December temperature is harsh and it’s helping keep the chill off.

They sit in a companionable silence a little longer, listening to the rain falling on the roof of the car and the radio static. It’s peaceful, calm, Yaz decides. She likes that Laura doesn't feel the need to fill the silence with meaningless chatter, that can just appreciate the silence. Maybe if Yaz tries a little harder, she could actually become friends with her and not just a colleague.

The thought prompts Yaz to talk.

“I lost someone,” she starts, voice as even as she can manage. “About ten months ago now.”

Yaz can hear Laura’s breathing change over the sound of the rain, the radio static, the heating in the car. Her heart is in her mouth.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Is that why you took leave from work?”

Yaz turns and looks at her properly in her surprise.

“How did you —?”

“There aren’t many probationary officers who can take a significant amount of leave and still graduate on time. It’s impressive,” she notes, taking a sip from her water bottle. “But don’t worry, all they told me was that you had been away for personal reasons.”

Yaz nods slowly. The ball is well and truly in her court now, anything Laura knows from this point on will come directly from her. She has to choose her words carefully.

“It was. I was grieving. Sort of.”

“Sort of?” Laura probes gently. Her open and honest tone prompts Yaz to keep talking.

“She … disappeared. Not too easy to grieve when you don’t even know if the person is dead or not,” she shrugs, flippantly. That fact, she has accepted by now. It doesn’t mean it’s any easier to deal with.

“And now, the longer it goes on, the harder it is to believe she’ll come back?” 

Yaz looks at Laura again, studying her expression. It is not pitying, like so many people have been. Nor is it dismissive, like she doesn’t believe what Yaz is telling her. It is somewhere in between, an understanding that Yaz is hurting, but an encouragement to not let that hurt suffocate her.

“Yeah. It’s just been so long.”  _ But has it been as long for her?  _ Yaz silently adds. She doesn’t know.

“Did she mean a lot to you?”

Yaz nods slowly, her breaths shaky. “The universe.”

They sit looking at each other, allowing the enormity of the moment to settle, to stop shifting the air in the car until it can settle again.

No sooner has the tension dropped from the air than it’s reignited again in the form of Yaz’s radio coming to life from where it’s clipped to her jacket and the voice of Yaz’s sergeant crackles down the line.

“Khan and Redman, are you in patrol car 13 and ready to respond?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I need you down here, at the warehouses. Two civilians, an American guy and a blonde woman with him. He doesn’t seem to have any idea where they are, and the woman isn’t saying anything. Except your name.”

Yaz’s heart jumps into her mouth. It couldn’t be, could it?

“We’re on our way, sir. ETA ten minutes.”

“Okay. And Khan?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Be quick, she’s in a bad way.”

Yaz swallows against the nausea rising from her stomach. Now is not the time to freak out. Even if it’s not the Doctor, whoever it is needs her help.

“We will be, sir.”

Without a word, Yaz buckles her seatbelt and takes the steering wheel in a white-knuckle grip, pulling away from the curb and driving them through the darkened streets of Sheffield as fast as she dares. To her relief, Laura doesn’t say anything the whole trip: she can tell Yaz is only just holding it together, and the wrong words at the wrong moment might just tip her over the edge.

Yaz reaches the location in just over seven minutes, jumping out of the vehicle mere milliseconds after she parks it. She clocks her sergeant standing off to one side, and sprints over to him.

“Where is she?” she asks, without so much as a hello.

Wordlessly, he points to the shadows cast by the wall of one of the buildings. Sure enough, sitting slumped against the grey wall, is a blonde figure. Except it doesn’t look like the Doctor. Lank, greasy hair hangs limp, obscuring her face. A filthy red jumpsuit hangs off her skinny frame; the fact that she’s seriously underweight is obvious from here, and Yaz can see dried blood encrusted in the space where her pale, bony wrists stick out from the ends of the jumpsuit.

She looks up and to the left, where another figure is standing. This one is much more recognisable, and it’s none other than Captain Jack Harkness. Yaz has only met him once, briefly, but he had said that he was a friend of the Doctor and had warned them about the Lone Cyberman. So, if that’s Jack, then that must make the figure on the floor, the Doctor.


	7. See You Again (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaz is eventually reunited with the Doctor once again, but everything is far from okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely reception on yesterday's chapter! Here is part two, and the final part will be up tomorrow :)
> 
> Warnings for hallucinating, injury

Yaz stands frozen to the spot for a moment, staring at the figure slumped on the floor. That couldn’t be the Doctor, could it? But it is, it is the Doctor. She’s right in front of her, and she doesn’t know what to do. A hand on her shoulder makes her jump, and she turns around to see Laura standing next to her, a worried look in her eyes.

“PC Khan, are you alright?”

Yaz swallows against the nausea in her throat.

“It’s her,” she whispers, trying to control the wobble in her voice.

Laura nods slowly. “You should be the one to go over there. I’ll keep everyone else back, give you some space, but I’ll be right here if you need me, okay?”

Yaz nods slowly, and turns towards where the Doctor is slumped against the wall. She squares her shoulders, but it’s more false confidence than anything else. Making her way over slowly to the corner, she crouches down a few feet away from the Doctor,  _ her  _ Doctor.

“Hey,” she says quietly. The Doctor still jumps, scrambling backwards into the wall and refusing to meet her gaze. Yaz’s heart sinks, and she falls backwards to sit cross-legged on the cold, damp tarmac, her hands out in front of her.

“Doctor, it’s me, it’s Yaz. I’m here for you.”

“No! Stop, this is cruel! Haven’t you done this enough already?” The Doctor’s voice is choked with sobs, and Yaz wants to cry herself. Of all the ways she could have imagined seeing the Doctor again, this is not the way she would have wanted. But, it’s what she’s doing.

“Doctor, what do you mean?”

The Doctor shakes her head hard, looking up to meet Yaz’s gaze for the first time. The police officer breathes in sharply. Her skin is pale and grey, eyes sunk into her skull and her cheeks hollow. There’s dark, angry bruising working all the way up the right side of her face, ending in an impressive black eye and a sizable graze on her forehead.

“You’re not real. You’re a hallucination,” she spits, curling in on herself and trembling even harder. Yaz’s heart breaks in two. Even though the Doctor doesn’t think she’s there, she’s still terrified of her. And that speaks volumes about what she could have possibly been through.

“Doctor, I promise you, I am right here, I’m real. You’re in Sheffield, on Earth, in 2020. I don’t know how you got here, but you did, and I’m right here for you.”

“Vortex manipulator,” Jack finally pipes up, standing up properly from where he was standing against the wall. “I broke into her cell, got her out of there. She was convinced I wasn’t real either.”

Yaz nods slowly.  _ So she was probably in prison. _ “Thank you, Jack. Could you go and speak to my sergeant over there, ginger guy? Do whatever you need to do to assure him I’ve got this under control.”

“Sure thing,” Jack nods. “I’ll be seeing you, Doc. And nice to see you again, Yaz.”

Yaz shoots him a grateful, if tight-lipped smile. She’s on her own with the Doctor now.

“Doctor.” Yaz softens her voice as much as she can. “I know you’re scared, and you’re vulnerable, and I know how much you hate that. But I’m real, I’m sitting right in front of you. How can I convince you that I’m not a hallucination?”

The Doctor sits silent and still, unblinking for so long that Yaz fears she might have actually stopped breathing. If her face is that bad, Yaz dreads to think how bad the damage to the rest of her body is.

“Tell me something only Yaz would know,” she whispers eventually, almost like she’s scared that if she speaks the words into existence, Yaz will be ripped right away from her.

Yaz wracks her brains. She has to think carefully. This could be the difference between getting the Doctor back, and, well … Yaz doesn’t want to think about the alternative.

“When we were investigating Barton, and I got taken by the Kasaavin. I turned up in that glass cage thing inside O’s hut in Australia. You saw me, and you looked so scared for me. I’ve never seen you look so scared.”

_ Apart from now. _

The Doctor nods slowly, tears welling up in her bloodshot eyes as she properly looks at Yaz for the first time.

“It’s you, you’re really real,” she whispers, disbelief and fear still weighing heavy in her tone.

“Yeah,” Yaz whispers back, a small smile gracing her face. “I’m real, Doctor, and I’m right here for you. I’m with you, no matter what.”

The Doctor very slowly and very tentatively reaches out a shaking hand for Yaz to take, and Yaz bum-shuffles the last few feet towards the Doctor. As soon as she’s within touching distance, the Doctor grabs her hand and tugs Yaz towards her with a surprising amount of strength considering how malnourished she is. 

Not wanting to wait a single second longer, Yaz gathers her bony form into her arms, holding her tightly and soothing her.

“You’re safe now Doctor, I’ve got you and I’m not going to let you go.”

The Doctor nods against her neck, and Yaz could cry with relief. The Doctor is here, back on Earth, and she’s in Yaz’s arms.

Eventually, Yaz decides that they really do need to move. She can feel the Doctor shivering in her grasp, she needs to be somewhere warm and comfortable and safe.

“Doctor, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to take you back to my flat. I’m worried about how cold and malnourished you are, and I think you might be hurt. Does that sound like something we can do?”

There’s another significant silence, the only sound is the rain battering the ground and the corrugated metal of the warehouse roofs.

Eventually, the Doctor nods, and Yaz could sigh with relief.

“Do you think you can stand on your own?” Yaz asks in a hushed tone, she’s all too aware of how much the Doctor hates to appear vulnerable. But, at this moment, she is without question very vulnerable, and so Yaz has to treat her with care and patience.

“I don’t know,” she whispers, hanging her head in shame.

“That’s okay, we can try together.”

Yaz twists her body to search behind her for Laura. She’s standing beside the sergeant, watching Yaz and the Doctor carefully but keeping her distance, like she said she would. Jack is nowhere to be seen. But then again, she’s not surprised, he doesn’t seem like the type to stick around any longer than necessary.

“Doctor, my flat is quite a way from here. Is it okay if I ask Laura, my colleague, to drive us? She’ll drive and I’ll sit in the back with you.”

The Doctor nods again, she’s gone worryingly quiet and Yaz decides that the sooner she can get her back to her flat, the better. Yaz stands up slowly, detangling herself from the Doctor and gently maneuvering her so she’s resting against the wall again. She’s not sure she’d manage to sit up on her own.

“PC Redman, would you be able to drive us back to my flat?”

“PC Khan, are you sure about that? She doesn’t look well, are you sure she doesn’t need to be somewhere more … secure?” Her Sergeant looks unsure, doubting the young officer’s judgement.

Yaz shakes her head firmly. “No. I’ve known her a long time, she needs to be somewhere familiar right now. I can take care of her, I promise sir.”

The sergeant watches her carefully, weighing up his options. He then looks back at the Doctor from her position on the floor. She’s curled in on herself again, but she’s tentatively peering at Yaz past where her lank hair has fallen in front of her face again, thankfully obscuring most of the bruising. If the sergeant sees how bad her face is, he would force Yaz to take her to a hospital. Somehow, Yaz doesn’t think that would go too well.

“Alright, then. Well, I can move your shifts around so it’ll give you a few days off. Look after her, call me if there are any problems.” The sergeant gives Yaz another suspicious look, but she keeps her gaze firm and unyielding, and eventually he gives her a curt nod.

“Thank you, Sir. We’ve got this from here.”

Yaz nods at Laura before she makes her way back over to the Doctor slowly, narrating each action and crouching down in front of her.

“Hey, Doctor. Laura is going to drive us back to my flat now. I’m going to help you stand up by wrapping my arm around your waist, you can lean on me as much as you need to. The car is only about 20 feet away, I won’t let you go,” Yaz reassures, crouching down and watching the Doctor intently. She’s very aware that the hug they just shared is by far the most physical contact she and the Doctor have ever had in the time they’ve known each other, and they’re about to get much more up close and personal if the Doctor’s weakened and filthy state is anything to go by.

The Doctor gives another small nod of consent, and Yaz carefully wraps an arm around her middle, mindful of any bruises that may be hidden underneath the filthy red jumpsuit she’s wearing. She misses the usual rainbows.

Slowly, Yaz pulls the Doctor to her feet; she’s light, but Yaz is still taking most of the strain. She also doesn’t miss the hiss of pain when the Doctor takes her first step forwards onto her right foot, and the subsequent limp towards the car.

Eventually, they make it to the comfort of the vehicle, Yaz carefully depositing the Doctor inside and shutting the door before rounding the car and climbing in that side. She slides across to the middle seat so she can help buckle the Doctor’s seatbelt for her, and then wraps her up in her arms for the whole journey across the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please feel free to leave a comment, they make my day. If you have anything you would like to prompt me with, don't hesitate to leave it in the comments below, or drop me a message on tumblr or twitter.
> 
> Tumblr: @emmyphant  
> Twitter: @emmyphant_


	8. See You Again (Part Three)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaz gets the Doctor back to her flat, and takes care of her after her time in prison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third and final part! I'm going to post this as a separate fic too, called "We All Need Someone To Hold"
> 
> Enjoy :)

The drive seems to take forever, but eventually they pull up outside Yaz’s block of flats. The Doctor makes no effort to move from where she’s curled into Yaz’s side when Laura turns off the ignition and the car goes dark.

“Doctor, we’re here,” Yaz whispers as she shakes her shoulders gently, trying to rouse some sort of response from the Time Lord.

The Doctor lifts her head slowly, squinting out the window to take in her surroundings.

“This isn’t your flat,” she croaks, eyes widening again with fear.

“It is, Doctor. I moved out of my parent’s flat about three months ago and I live here now,” she explains, watching the Doctor carefully.

“Yaz got her own flat,” she smiles. “Proud of you.”

Yaz smiles back, slowly unbuckling both of their seatbelts. “Thank you, Doctor. How about we go and check out that flat?”

The Doctor nods, seemingly done with speech again and allows Yaz to help her out of the car. She half walks, half carries the Doctor into her building and up in the lift until they reach her flat. At her front door, Yaz is as quiet and efficient as she can be with the lock; if the Doctor has been in prison, like she suspects, she’s probably not too fond of the sound of a lock turning. But her fingers are numb and clumsy from sitting out in the freezing rain for so long, and eventually Laura takes pity on her, taking the key and unlocking it. She holds it open so Yaz can lead the Doctor inside, immediately depositing her on the sofa. Yaz goes to stand up to grab the Doctor some food or water, she’s not too sure what’s best, but the Doctor pulls her back again and buries her face into her neck.

She’s shivering, and Yaz can hear her taking shuddering breaths through her teeth. She’s not sure whether it’s a reaction to pain, being cold, scared, or all three. Most likely all three. As much as she wants to get the Doctor cleaned up and warm, she recognises that the Doctor just needs  _ her _ at this moment, so she stays on the sofa and wraps one arm around her shoulders, the other coming to rest against the side of her head, where she gently scratches her scalp through greasy, matted hair. 

Laura gives a little noise of surprise, and Yaz looks up to see her little black cat, Luna, sauntering into the room and winding herself around Laura’s ankles. She sits down at Yaz and the Doctor’s feet and curls her tail around herself, staring intently at the new visitor. The Doctor senses her presence and glances up from her lap, smiling slightly at the jet-black feline.

“This is Luna, my cat,” Yaz answers the unasked question, reaching the hand that isn’t wrapped around the Doctor for Luna to headbutt. She does, purring loudly. It prompts the Doctor to slowly extend a hand too, and she lets out a quiet breath through her nose when Luna rubs her cheek against her fist.

“She’ll sit on your lap if you like,” Yaz offers, and the Doctor nods, perhaps with the most enthusiasm she’s managed to muster since Yaz found her. Reaching down, Yaz scoops Luna up and sets her down on the Doctor’s lap, giving her a few firm strokes until she settles. Yaz notices the Doctor’s breathing even out almost instantly, although she’s still shivering hard and her fingers and lips have a slightly blue tinge to them.

“Would you like a blanket?” Laura’s voice is soft and quiet, but it still makes the Doctor jump, knocking her bruised face against Yaz’s shoulder and hissing quietly. Yaz nods slowly, comfortingly rubbing the Doctor’s back. The material of the jumpsuit is coarse and stiff under her palm, it can’t possibly be comfortable to wear. But that probably wasn’t the point of it, comfort.

“There’s a basket of them at the bottom of my bed, first door,” she supplies, gently shushing the Doctor, who is now crying quietly against her shoulder.

Laura isn’t overly loud when she’s retrieving the blanket, but not too quiet that the Doctor can’t tell where she is and what she’s doing. Yaz knows that the Doctor has superior alien hearing, presuming it hasn’t been damaged when she’s away. But Laura doesn’t know that, and Yaz is grateful for her calming presence and consideration. While Yaz has had the training and dealt with a few cases in such a nature, it’s very different when it’s your best friend relying on you.

“I’m going to drape the blanket over both of you, so Yasmin can keep holding onto you. It’s going to go over Yasmin’s shoulder first, then over the top and then I’ll tuck it over your shoulder. There you go.”

Yaz smiles gratefully at Laura who narrates every action as she does it, and soon enough she and the Doctor are encased in one of her fluffiest blankets. Laura brings them both a glass of water, making sure the Doctor has a good grip on it in her shaky hands before letting go. Yaz waits until she’s finished drinking before she speaks again, not wanting her to startle and spill water on either herself or Luna.

“Doctor, would you like to take a hot bath? You’re pretty mucky, and I think it would help you warm up and feel a bit better if you were cleaner,” Yaz suggests gently, stroking the back of the Doctor’s hand with her thumb. She doesn’t mention it, but she also knows that if she manages to get the Doctor into the bath, she’ll be able to get a look at where else she’s hurt and hopefully be able to offer help. Despite her superior Time Lord healing abilities, Yaz thinks that might be somewhat compromised by her current state.

“Do you have bubbles?” She whispers, eyes flicking up from the cat in her lap briefly.

“I do, lots of them.”

The Doctor nods again, returning her gaze to Luna’s head, scratching behind her ears. She purs in contentment, rubbing her forehead against the Doctor’s other arm that’s curled around her stomach.

“I’ll go and run it for you, then you can stay with Yasmin,” Laura offers kindly, already making her way to the bathroom.

When the bath is run, Yaz slowly shoos Luna away and helps the Doctor up from the sofa, not missing the grunt she makes with the effort and the pain, nor the weight she’s still refusing to put through her right leg. Once in the bathroom, Yaz sits her down on the closed toilet seat and looks back to Laura hovering at the door.

“Would you mind making her something to eat?” She asks, her voice laced with guilt. Technically they’re both still on shift and this  _ is  _ a case they were called to, but there’s something very odd about her coworker being in her home.

“Of course not,” Laura reassures. “Anything in particular?”

Yaz glances back at the Doctor, a slight smile on her face as she thinks back to the first night they met.

“Fried egg sandwich?” She asks, and she grins when the Doctor nods enthusiastically.

“I’ll get on that, just call if you need me.”

“Doctor, I’m going to go and get you something to wear, and my desk lamp so we don’t have to turn on the big light, okay?”

The Doctor nods and Yaz excuses herself, nipping into her bedroom as quick as she can. She also sheds her own clothes and dresses in comfy sweats, then grabs her starry pyjamas for the Doctor and her desk lamp.

Back in the bathroom, the Doctor is trying to undo the buttons on the front of her jumpsuit but quickly getting frustrated when her numb fingers won’t cooperate. Yaz kneels down in front of the Doctor, setting the clean pyjamas down beside the sink.

“Would you like some help?” She asks softly, and the Doctor nods, hanging her head miserably.

Without making a fuss, Yaz unbuttons the filthy red material and slides it from the Doctor’s shoulders, leaving it to rest around her hips and revealing a grubby white vest top underneath. Her wrists are crusty with dried blood and bruised, it doesn’t take a genius to work out that she’s been restrained not too long ago. Judging by the dark red overall colour of the skin, it hasn’t just been a one-time event.

Next, Yaz moves down to unlace the Doctor’s boots, not her usual ones, she notes, and she slides the left one off without a problem. Apparently whoever imprisoned her didn’t think to give her socks to wear with her boots; her feet are bare and blistered. But when she tries to remove the right one, the Doctor shouts and pulls her foot away sharply, chest heaving.

“I’m sorry, Doctor, I’m sorry. Is your foot hurting you?”

The Doctor nods, hanging her head. Yaz reaches up to comfortingly rub her knee until she stops trembling.

“We need to get the boot off so you can get in the bath and I can look at it. I’ll unlace it all the way and make it as loose as I can, and I’ll slide it off really gently, I promise.”

It takes an age but the Doctor eventually nods, and Yaz sets to work, keeping her promise to be as gentle as she can. Despite her best efforts, the Doctor cries the whole time, biting down on her fist to try and muffle her distress. When Yaz eventually gets the boot off, it’s obvious why the Time Lord is struggling so much; her foot and her ankle are black and blue and swollen angrily.

Without a word, Yaz helps her into the bath, letting her sink happily under the bubbles until they come all the way up to her chin. Her sigh of relief is audible, and Yaz smiles.

“What do you want to do with this?” She asks gently, holding up the stiff red material of the jumpsuit.

“Get rid of it,” she mutters, lip curling in disgust.

Yaz nods in understanding, balling up the material and tossing it into the sink for the time being before turning back to look at the Doctor carefully. Her eyes are closed and she’s hovering her hands tentatively above the water, presumably hesitant to lower her bloodied, bruised wrists into the soapy water.

“I’ve got a soft flannel here, it’s brand new so the material will be really gentle on your skin. Do you want me to use it to wash your wrists and your face?” Yaz asks, showing her the flannel and gesturing towards the tap in the sink.

The Doctor looks mortified, tears brimming in her eyes.

“Doctor, no shame. I wouldn’t be offering if I wasn’t happy to help you, and I think you’ll be a lot more comfortable if I can clean up some of the dried blood.”

The Doctor nods slightly, resting her painful-looking wrists on the edge of the bath and taking a steadying breath. Yaz runs the flannel under the cold tap of the sink, wringing some of the excess water out before kneeling back down beside the bath. Her knees will protest at her tomorrow, but making the Doctor comfortable is much more important right now.

“Docor, the water is quite cold but I don’t want to irritate your skin. I’ll start with your forehead, then I’ll sort your wrists, okay?”

“Okay,” the Doctor echoes in a whisper, tilting her head back to rest against the edge of the bath and closing her eyes to allow Yaz to start.

Yaz works quickly and carefully, taking care not to cause the Doctor any further pain, although she still screws up her face a bit when Yaz washes her wrists and has to use her tweezers to pick out tiny fibres of rope stuck in the partially-healed wounds.

Once she’s cleaned her injuries, Yaz sets to work on washing her hair, gently combing through the tangles and matted areas before smoothing it out and giving it a thorough scrubbing with her mango shampoo and conditioner.

“S’this your shampoo?” The Doctor murmurs in question, eyes half-closed in bliss.

“Yeah. D’you like it?”

The Doctor nods slowly, smiling. “Yeah, you always smelled nice.”

Yaz pauses in her hair washing, taken aback by the Doctor’s words. Surely she didn’t actually mean that?

Deciding to ignore it, she resumes her task of washing the Doctor’s hair, before helping her out of the bath and drying her with a large towel. Finally, she helps her dress in the fluffy pyjamas, the Doctor tiring rapidly already.

“Doctor, I’m going to carry you to my bed so you can be a bit more comfortable and you won’t have to move again, is that okay?”

The Doctor just smiles at her gratefully so Yaz goes ahead and scoops her up, easily carrying her into her bedroom and setting her down on the bed, propping her up with pillows so she can sit comfortably and resting her injured ankle on another cushion before finally retrieving her first-aid kit from the bathroom and sitting back down at her feet. Just at that moment, Laura knocks gently on the bedroom door brandishing a plate with a fresh fried-egg sandwich, and the Doctor almost grins.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll be off now. I need to get home to take my son to nursery,” Laura asks, and Yaz nods gratefully. She hadn’t noticed, but it’s past six in the morning.

“Thank you, really, for all your help.”

“Just let me know if either of you need anything, alright? And take care of yourselves,” she finishes, raising her eyebrows pointedly at Yaz. The statement is as much directed at her as it is the Doctor.

When Laura is gone, Yaz hands the Doctor the plate, and the Time Lord instantly takes a large bite.

“Hey, Doctor, slow down. It’s not going anywhere, and I don’t want you to make yourself sick,” Yaz chides gently, smiling at the Doctor’s guilty expression.

“I’ll wrap and ice your ankle for you while you eat, and then I’ll do your wrists.”

“Time Lords have superior healing abilities, I don’t need you to look after me,” she argues, clearly distressed about the thought of Yaz taking care of her even further.

“Doctor, you’re malnourished, you might heal faster than me but probably not as fast as you’re used to. And you spent so long taking care of me, let me do you the same for you?”

Yaz is rewarded with a defeated huff and a sigh, and the Time Lord goes back to eating her sandwich, albeit slower this time.

Yaz gently wraps and elevates her foot before slipping fuzzy socks over both her feet, finishing by snapping the icepack in the first aid kit and laying it over the swollen joint. When the Doctor is finished eating, Yaz moves onto her wrists, apologising for the sting of the antiseptic cream. She bandages them efficiently, spontaneously deciding to leave a kiss where she tucks the last piece of bandage in. She flushes immediately, dropping the Doctor’s hand back into her lap and hurriedly tidying up her supplies.

“I’ll leave you to get some rest then, I’ll just be in the kitchen if you need me,” she mutters on her way out the door.

“Wait, Yaz.”

Yaz stops in the doorway, slowly turning around and resting one hand on the doorframe while she watches the Doctor.

“Yeah?”

“Could you maybe … erm … Could you maybe stay here, with me?” The Doctor’s tone is perhaps the most vulnerable it’s been throughout this whole experience, and Yaz melts instantly. She deposits the first aid kit on top of her dresser before padding back over to her bed, sinking gratefully into navy sheets that the Doctor is holding up for her.

“Could I have a hug?” She whispers, holding open her arms shyly.

“Of course you can, Doctor,” Yaz replies, shuffling into the Doctor’s arms and wrapping her in her own embrace, holding her tight and tracing slow circles on her back. She can feel every vertebrae through the fluffy pyjama set, and it’s sharp against her soul.

“How long was it for you Yaz?” She whispers an unknown amount of time later.

“About ten months. How long for you, Doctor?”

The Doctor sighs heavily, burying her face into Yaz’s neck once again. Yaz fears she may have pushed too far.

“Too long. I missed you so much, Yaz. I missed everyone, but especially you.”

Yaz’s breath catches in her throat, and she wills herself not to cry. She  _ has _ to be the strong one in this situation. She just has to.

“Yaz — I feel like — You mean so much to me, but in a different way to everyone else. Sorry, I’m not very good at expressing things using words, haven’t exactly had much practice lately —” she breaks off with a scornful chuckle, shaking her head “— can I show you instead?”

Yaz breathes a yes, and then all of a sudden, the Doctor’s cold, chapped lips are on hers, and she’s kissing the Doctor. It’s light and fleeting, but it’s more perfect than she could ever imagine, and it more than certainly gets the Doctor’s point across.

“I feel the same way, Doctor,” she whispers, reluctant to move her forehead away from the other woman’s lest she slip away from her entirely.

“I can’t believe I waited so long to do that, Yasmin Khan,” the Doctor smiles sleepily, nuzzling her nose into Yaz’s neck.

“Me neither, Doctor.”

Yaz doesn’t get a response, other than a quiet snoring against her neck. She chuckles softly, shaking her head before settling more comfortable into the pillows, and more importantly, into the Doctor’s embrace. There are important discussions to be had and steps towards recovery to be made, but that can wait until later. For now, all Yaz wants is to fall asleep in the Doctor’s arms and to be there for her every step of the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please feel free to leave a comment, they make my day. If you have anything you would like to prompt me with, don't hesitate to leave it in the comments below, or drop me a message on tumblr or twitter.
> 
> Tumblr: @emmyphant  
> Twitter: @emmyphant_


	9. Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaz opens up to Ryan about what really happened with Izzy Flint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to write just Ryan and Yaz today!   
> While Yaz has mentioned Izzy Flint, her "year from hell" and her past struggles with depression, this is my own speculation about what happened, so obvioulsy it's probably not canon, so keep that in mind.  
> Content warnings:  
> homophobia  
> bullying  
> depression  
> references to self-harm  
> references to suicide attempts

“Y’know, you’re probably my oldest friend,” Yaz muses out loud as she and Ryan sit in his bedroom at home, midway through a game of Call of Duty. Yaz isn’t a fan of guns, but when it’s in a video game, it helps somewhat in releasing some of her frustrations in a healthier manner.

“Really?” Ryan reflects, brow furrowing in thought and momentarily distracting him from the screen. He narrowly misses getting shot down, swearing under his breath. Yaz snickers at his muttered grumbling, it wasn’t her plan to distract him, but it worked out rather well.

“Yeah,” she shrugs, pausing for a moment to concentrate on the game. “I’ve known you since reception, if I remember correctly we became friends pretty fast. Stayed that way all of primary school too.”

Ryan hums in agreement, thumb flicking absentmindedly against the edge of his controller while the game goes through a loading screen. “Yeah, we were. Drifted apart in secondary though. Then you disappeared off to a different school.”

“Yeah…” Yaz trails off, her eyes casting their glance towards the floor and the small coca-cola stain on Ryan’s carpet that he unsuccessfully tried to hide from Graham with some strategically placed magazines.

Sensing a change in his best mate’s mood, Ryan pauses the game and turns to face Yaz properly.

“You wanna talk about it, Yaz?” He implores, setting his controller down on the floor and gently prising Yaz’s from her hands before she rips the rubber from her clipped fingernails digging into it in her panic.

“Did I ever tell you about Izzy Flint?” She asks quietly, still refusing to lift her gaze from the floor.

“I heard the Doc ask you about it after that thing with the Morax, but you said it didn’t matter and you walked away.”

Yaz scoffs, raising her gaze to up past Ryan’s head, staring at the corner where walls meet ceiling.

“It did matter, didn’t it?”

Yaz nods slowly, her face still mostly devoid of any emotion. The only hint of any reaction to the direction in which this conversation is heading is the way her teeth carry out a brutal attack on her bottom lip.

“She didn’t like me from the start, not sure why. But then one day, after PE, me and another girl, Jess, we were the only ones still in the changing room. We liked each other, more as friends, we had for a while. Anyway, I went to kiss her, and Izzy barged back in, she’d left her hairbrush behind or something. But, she saw us, and outed me to the whole school. It was awful, I hadn’t really accepted the fact that I’m gay at that point even just for myself, let alone the entire school. Didn’t matter for Jess, she was already out, and she tried to support me, but it just got so bad that people started turning on her too.”

Yaz breaks off, her eyes welling up and her voice catching as she tries to compose herself, to get to the end of this story. It’s like she has to, she just has to get this out into the world, from her perspective, before anyone else can cut in with bits of the truth that get twisted and retold so many times that they’re no longer the truth.

“You don’t have to tell me, Yaz. I’m here for you whether you tell me or not,” Ryan reassures, putting a calming hand between Yaz’s shoulder blades.

Roughly scrubbing away her few stray tears with the heel of her hand, Yaz takes a deep, if shaky, breath, and shakes her head. “No, I want to. I need to tell the whole thing from my perspective.”

Ryan nods, understanding. He gets it.

“Anyway, Year Nine ended up being completely awful. She spread rumors about me to anyone and everyone. People pushed me, threw things at me, nobody wanted to sit next to me in lessons. Wasn’t allowed in the changing rooms for PE anymore. It was awful, I just woke up every single day feeling this … dread.”

“Did you not talk to your parents about it?”

Yaz shakes her head. “No. They sort of knew I were being bullied, Sonya told them. But they didn’t know how bad it had gotten, and they didn’t know why.”

Ryan sighs deeply, rubbing Yaz’s back as she continues to fight back tears. “And then you ran away,” he fills in, his voice not full of pity, but openness and empathy.

“Yeah. Kinda. Wasn’t the first time I wanted to do something like that though. I’d … erm. I tried to hurt myself about a year earlier. S’why I always wear long sleeves around you all.” Yaz finishes her sentence with a shug, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her chin atop them.

“Anyway, transferred school, but one of Izzy’s friends went there so it followed me. Tried to run away a year later, went to therapy, joined the police, and you know the rest.”

“Yaz, mate, I had no idea. I’m so sorry I ignored all of that.”

“Ryan, it’s not your fault. You had your own stuff going on,” she shrugs again, thinking back to Ryan’s confession to her about his mother’s death on board Tsuranga. It seems so long ago, it’s amazing how much they’ve done with the Doctor in such little time.

“Have you told the Doc about any of this?” He implores, concerned for his best-friend’s wellbeing and her relationship with the Time Lord.

“Bits. She knows that I had a year from hell, that I ran away. And I usually wear short sleeves to bed, it’s like sleeping next to an oven. So she has to have seen that bit, although she’s never passed comment.”

“You should tell her. She loves you, she’d want to know so she can support you. It doesn’t have to be now, but whenever you’re ready.”

Yaz nods in understanding, leaning gratefully into the hug that Ryan offers her, his solid build a comfort as she feels her mind start to wobble.

“And just know, I’m here for ya if you ever start feeling like that again. Okay?”

“Okay,” Yaz echoes, taking deep breaths as a sense of relief washes over her at having divulged the full story of her most traumatic years to her best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please feel free to leave a comment, they make my day. If you have anything you would like to prompt me with, don't hesitate to leave it in the comments below, or drop me a message on tumblr or twitter.
> 
> Tumblr: @emmyphant  
> Twitter: @emmyphant_


	10. Tiny Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaz paints the Doctor's nails for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another chapter. I can't believe I'm officially 1/3 of the way through this and I haven't fallen behind (what a miracle).  
> Anyway, enjoy some fluff!

Yaz almost,  _ almost _ jumps and smudges her neatly painted nails when a solid weight settles over top of her shoulder. 

Almost.

But really, she had expected it.

She knows the Doctor can’t go five minutes without wanting to know what Yaz is up to, especially if it’s something she’s never witnessed before. Therefore, Yaz painting her nails is downright fascinating.

“Yazzzzzz,” The Time Lord sing-songs, mouth so close to her face that Yaz can feel her warm breath ghosting along her cheek.

“Yes?”

“What you doin’?”

Yaz chuckles involuntarily partially at the Time Lord’s insatiable curiosity, partially at the fact that she’s apparently never seen someone do this before. Screwing the cap back on the nail polish and dropping the glass bottle into the bag, she rests her head affectionately against the Doctor’s.

“Painting my nails.”

Even though she can’t see her, Yaz just  _ knows _ that the Time Lord’s eyes have lit in up in excitement, a grin taking over her expression.

“Ooh! This is such a human quirk, painting your nails! Do you do it much?”

Yaz shakes her head, gently shrugging the Doctor’s head from her shoulder and turning round on the bed so she’s facing the Doctor.

“Not really, I usually don’t have the patience. But it’s a good calming technique for when things get a bit much.”

Predictably, the Doctor looks at Yaz with a measured gaze, studying her features intensely.

“Are things getting too much at the moment?” She asks gently, picking up one of Yaz’s hands and studying the mint-green polish decorated with delicate white flowers.

“A little bit, but I’ve got it under control. Those flowers really helped me calm down and take my mind off things,” she smiles, trying to reassure the Doctor.

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Yaz affirms, drawing her hands back in the fear that the Doctor will poke at one of her nails and ruin her hard work.

“And you’ll tell me if things are getting too much?”

Yaz nods, a soft smile on her face. She knows the Doctor cares about her, about the whole fam, but she rarely shows this level of softness and openness in her Duty of Care, as she calls it.

“I will, I promise.”

Yaz pauses, watching the Doctor continue to scrutinise her hands.

“Would you like me to paint your nails, Doctor?”

The Time Lords face lights up with enthusiasm, and a firm nod confirms Yaz’s suspicions.

“C’mon then. Let’s go to the cinema room, ask the boys if they want to join us.” Yaz hops off the bed, grabbing her bag of supplies and taking the Doctor’s hand to lead her out of the room.

“Wait, what? Why the cinema room? And I’m not sure the boys would be up for this activity. Well, Graham might let you paint his nails, but Ryan wouldn’t let you get anywhere near him with that stuff.”

Yaz rolls her eyes again, still leading the Doctor in what she hopes is the direction of the cinema room. Although, who knows on this ship.

“There’s no way you’ll sit still for long enough without some sort of distraction. And I thought the boys might like to join us.”

“Ahh right. Well why don’t you go and get set up and pick up a film, I’ll go and find the boys.”

Before Yaz can even respond, the Doctor has bounded off, leaving Yaz in a bit of a daze standing in the corridor. Getting the hyperactive alien to sit still for long enough might be a bit more of a challenge than she had anticipated.

* * *

  
  


In the cinema room, the Doctor has been sitting still for a surprising amount of time before she starts to fidget. Yaz picked a cheesy sci-fi film, knowing that the Doctor would be far too caught up in criticising all the inaccuracies to be having too much trouble sitting still. What Yaz hadn’t countered on was the dramatic hand gestures to go along with the rambling.

The Doctor had managed to keep most of her gesticulating to the one hand that Yaz wasn’t currently painting, but she’s partway through painting the tiny gold stars on top of the navy blue of the nails of her left hand when she decides it’s needed to really emphasise her point, and rips it out of Yaz’s gentle grip.

“Doctor!”

Thankfully, Yaz’s reaction is quick enough to not smudge any of her delicate work and catches her wrist easily.

“Sorry, Yaz,” the Doctor grimaces, shooting Yaz a guilty look.

“S’fine, I’m almost done. You can wave the other hand around as much as you want,” she grins, setting the Doctor’s hand back on the cushion between them and resuming her task.

“All done, Doctor,” she announces, screwing the cap back on the bottle and smiling as the Doctor looks down at her fingernails in awe.

“Thank you Yaz! I love them, they’re so sparkly!”

She jumps up from the sofa, apparently done with sitting still for a second longer. She bounds towards the door, muttering something shout the temporal regulators.

“Doctor, wait! Where are you going?”

“To check on the temporal regulators, they’ve been playing up lately and that film reminded me I need to check them.”

“You’ve gotta let them dry first, Doc,” Graham pipes up.

The Doctor groans theatrically, and the fam all burst into laughter. Know-it-all Time Lord she may be, but the Doctor was still seriously lacking in some common sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please feel free to leave a comment, they make my day. If you have anything you would like to prompt me with, don't hesitate to leave it in the comments below, or drop me a message on tumblr or twitter.
> 
> Tumblr: @emmyphant  
> Twitter: @emmyphant_


	11. Earthquake (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s an even lighter pressure in the palm of her hand, so light that she can barely feel it, but it’s there, all the same. She concentrates all her efforts into making her hand move, and she feels herself manage to gently squeeze, just fleetingly, before her hand relaxes again, spent of energy from such a simple task.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the highly-requested part two to Chapter 3: Earthquake! Angsty as the last one, but with a good helping of comfort to make up for it. Enjoy :)

Snatches of conversation drift through Yaz’s subconscious as the Doctor carries her through the ruined, rubble-filled streets towards the TARDIS. Her body screams in pain with every slight jolt and jostle.

_ “Is she going to be okay, Doc?”  _ Ryan said.

_ “I don’t know … I need to get her to the med-bay, do a full scan.” _

* * *

There’s something firm and rubbery under her back, bright, white light searing through her eyelids and into the very recesses of her brain.

_ Wow, this hurts. Doctor? _

She wants to call out, tell the Doctor just how much it  _ hurts,  _ but she’s frozen in place and too terrified to even try moving.

_ “Graham, I’m sorry but I need to deal with Yaz first, there could be all sorts of things wrong we can’t see.” _

_ “That’s fine, Doc. I get it,” _

There’s a rustling sound somewhere nearby, and a soft sigh.

_ “Ryan, look in that blue cabinet over there, there are some painkiller patches. One on the back of Graham’s neck, that’ll keep him comfortable until I’ve sorted Yaz.” _

Her chest feels tight and weazy, each shallow breath making her ribs pulse with agony. Then, there’s a pressure on her face, and the breaths come a little easier, the stabbing in her chest a little placated.

_ “I’ve got you, Yaz. You’re going to be okay. I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m going to give you a sedative to make sure you’re completely unconscious, I don’t want you to be in any more pain, okay?” _

There’s a sharp sting in the back of her hand, before the welcome strands of complete calm pull her further into the blackness.

* * *

The next time Yaz comes too, she’s surprised to find that there’s a dip in the bed beside her, and the lights are not so bright now. There’s a steady beeping coming from somewhere in her vicinity, and she so desperately wants to open her eyes, open her mouth, but her head feels heavy and no matter how hard she tries, her eyelids won’t budge.

She can just about feel a light pressure on her hand, and soft breaths on the side of her neck.

“Doctor?” she tries to call out, but all that comes out is a strange sound, almost a whimper, stabbing at her ribs. She squirms as best as she can against the bed, her heavy leg and the body beside her limiting her movement.

The weight beside her shifts, jostling the bed slightly and she moans in pain when it shifts her fragile body involuntarily.

_ “Yaz? Yaz love, can you hear me?”  _ The Doctor’s voice is panicked and Yaz really really wishes she could open her eyes and tell her, “Yes, I can hear you,” but they stay stubbornly closed as she begins to fight for breath once again.

The pressure is back on her face now, the breaths coming a little easier once again, but they’re still pained.

_ “You’re okay Yaz, I’ve got you … Ryan! I need your help … “ _

* * *

_ “Is she going to wake up soon, Doc?” _

_ “She has to Graham, she just has to … “ _

Yaz wants to cry out, tell them that she can hear them, that she’s more fine than they think, thank you very much, but her throat hurts and her mouth is dry and rough, like sandpaper. There’s still a pressure on her face, light but still there. 

There’s an even lighter pressure in the palm of her hand, so light that she can barely feel it, but it’s there, all the same. She concentrates all her efforts into making her hand move, and she feels herself manage to gently squeeze, just fleetingly, before her hand relaxes again, spent of energy from such a simple task.

“Yaz? Guys, she just squeezed my hand.”

Yaz feels the Doctor’s hand squeeze back, the pressure increasing in a calming manner and a thumb stroking over her skin.

“Yaz, we’re here for ya, all of us.” 

Yaz’s lips twitch into a smile at Ryan’s voice, prompting her to try squeezing the Doctor’s hand again. It’s cold against her skin, but she finds she doesn’t mind, she’s used to the Doctor’s lower body temperature and it’s a welcome comfort.

“She can hear us, I’m sure of it. She squeezed my hand again.”

The Doctor’s voice sounds the most hopeful it has thus far, and it prompts Yaz to give opening her eyes one more go.

Slowly, and with a lot of effort, she peels her crusty eyelids open until they’re in a slight squint.

“Hi,” she croaks out, the sound muffled by the oxygen mask resting on her face, but it’s a sound all the same.

“Oh stars, Yaz. You don’t know how much I missed the sound of that voice.”

Yaz tries to let out a laugh, but all she can produce is a raspy cough that jars her ribs.

“I’ll get you some water.”

Yaz feels the surface under her shift and slowly raise her head higher. Then the mask is removed from her face and the Doctor holds a cup with a straw to her lips. She downs the small cup quickly and then leans back against her pillows with a tired sigh.

“How’s your arm, Graham?” Yaz asks through a still slightly-croaky voice.

“Better,” he smiles, lifting his arm to show Yaz the cast to reassure her. “I think Ryan and I’ll give you and the Doc some peace though, right?”

“Right,” Ryan agrees with a nod, following Graham out of the room.

It leaves the Doctor and Yaz in an awkward silence, looking everywhere but at each other.

Eventually, it’s the Doctor that speaks up first. “How much do you remember, Yaz?”

Her voice is soft, her eyes shiny, and Yaz realises she doesn’t think she’s ever seen the Doctor this emotional and openly vulnerable before.

“I remember … everything shaking, and the ceiling coming down on me. I remember you getting there, and then you took your shirt off?”

“Of course you remember that.”

“And then I remember you carrying me here, and that’s about it.”

The Doctor nods slowly, chewing a hangnail on the hand that isn’t holding Yaz’s.

“Doctor, how long have I been out?”

A long sigh works its way from the Doctor before she replies. “Four days, give or take.”

“Oh … how, erm, how bad is it?”

The Doctor stares down at her knees, fidgeting until Yaz squeezes her hand again, prompting her to speak.

“One broken rib, two fractured. And your leg …”

Yaz raises her eyebrows as the Doctor tails off.

“Well, if I had taken you to an Earth hospital, in your own time, you probably wouldn’t have a leg anymore. Earth hospital in 1906, well you wouldn’t be here at all.”

“Oh,” Yaz breathes, looking down at the plaster.

“But, TARDIS technology, I managed to get everything back into place. You’ll be off it for a while though, still have to rely on good old human biology to knit everything back together.”

Yaz nods, tentatively raising her wire-crowded arm from the bed to resettle it over her stomach, pins and needles working their way up from the cannula in the back of her hand from being stuck in one position for too long.

“Yaz, I’m sorry, I should have never let you get hurt.”

“Doctor —”

“Yaz, no, it was my fault. I should have checked the date properly before we left, I should have never put you in danger.”

“Doctor, it wasn’t your fault.”

“I have a Duty of Care, Yaz. It was absolutely my fault.”

“Doctor, no. Please,” Yaz says a little more firmly, tugging on the hand in hers to capture her attention. “I made the decision to travel with you, I made the decision to become your partner, I made the decision to go into that hotel. I could have just as easily been with you, outside, or in another spot that meant the ceiling didn’t fall on me. But I wasn’t, it was an unfortunate accident, simple as that.”

“But, Yaz —”

“Doctor, I don’t want to hear it. It was an accident, it could have just as easily been you, or Ryan, or Graham. You can’t blame yourself.”

Finally, finally the Doctor  acquiesces with a meek nod, resting her chin in the palm of her hand.

“Is there anything I can do for you, then?” she asks, dark green eyes searching Yaz for any sign that something else might be wrong.

“Our bed, and a cuddle,” she decides, looking fondly over the Doctor’s soft but delighted smile.

“We can do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and thank you for all the lovely comments so far! It's helping me keep the motivation up to stay on top of this madness!
> 
> Please feel free to leave a comment, they make my day. If you have anything you would like to prompt me with, don't hesitate to leave it in the comments below, or drop me a message on tumblr or twitter.
> 
> Tumblr: @emmyphant  
> Twitter: @emmyphant_


	12. Grocery Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The TARDIS kicks Yaz and the Doctor out, and the Doctor ends up staying the weekend with Yaz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This one is a bit shorter, and less than half is actually grocery shopping, but there's a longer follow-up tomorrow, so maybe I can be forgiven? Enjoy :)

“Argh! Why won’t you just listen to me?”

Yaz put her head in her hands as the Doctor continued her argument with the TARDIS, who was, at that moment, point blank refusing to take off. Yaz didn’t know why, but she was ninety-nine per cent certain the Doctor knew. Not that she was accepting that fact, if the continued argument was anything to go by.

“Doctor, why don’t we just leave her be for a while,” Yaz suggested, raising her eyebrows at the frustrated Time Lord. The TARDIS chirped as if in agreement with Yaz, and she had to hide a smirk behind her palm when the Doctor grumbled loudly.

“Oh, so you’re siding with Yaz now? Well, I’m not leaving until you agree to take off.” The Doctor planted her hands on her hips and glared up at the ceiling as the TARDIS gave a series of indignant sounding chirps, beeps and rumbles. Yaz wasn’t sure she had ever heard a machine sound to cross before, but then again, she had never come across a machine like the TARDIS before.

“What do you mean you’re not taking off?” The Doctor yelled incredulously, and Yaz rolled her eyes. They were as stubborn as each other.

Before she could really think, there was a bright flash and a loud bang coming from somewhere underneath the console and the room began to rapidly fill with smoke, causing both women to break out into coughing fits.

“Out, Yaz, out!” The Doctor yelled, and they both scrambled for the doors, stumbling out onto the pavement outside as the blue doors slammed shut behind them.

“Oh, that was a dirty trick,” the Doctor frowns as soon as they catch their breath.

“What?”

“Sometimes when the TARDIS and I have … disagreements, she likes to blow things up to kick me out.”

Yaz doesn’t attempt to hold back her laughter this time, despite the mutinous look the Doctor throws her.

“S’not funny, Yaz!”

“Sorry, sorry, it’s not. But listen, I could do with heading to my flat for a bit, I’ve still got some flatpack furniture to build, and I could do with a hand,” she grins. Hopefully the promise of building something will entice the Doctor of her grumpy mood.

“Hmm. Do you have custard creams at your flat,” she bargains, rocking on her toes.

“Might do, I honestly don’t remember what food I’ve got there.”

“So we get to go food shopping too?” The Time Lord’s face lights up at this proposition, and Yaz grins back.

“I guess so, fancy a trip to Tesco with me?”

“Tesco with Yaz, proper brilliant.”

* * *

“Doctor…”

“Yeah?” The Time Lord replied distractedly, continuing to load the basket on her arm to the brim with custard creams.

“You might need to slow down on the biscuits, love.” She raises her eyebrows as the pile in the basket grows higher and higher.

“But Yaz! The TARDIS kicked us out and I’m used to having custard creams on demand, I’m not sure how I’m going to survive!” Her time is deadly serious and Yaz has to hold back a sigh of frustration.

“I know, but I’m not made of money, and I’ve got other food to buy,” she reasons, softening a little when the Time Lord pouts at her.

“Tell you what, you can have three packets, and if you get through them all before she lets you back in, you can go and do whatever it is with your sonic at the ATM and buy as many packets as you like.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please feel free to leave a comment, they make my day. If you have anything you would like to prompt me with, don't hesitate to leave it in the comments below, or drop me a message on tumblr or twitter.
> 
> Tumblr: @emmyphant  
> Twitter: @emmyphant_


	13. Freestyle Furniture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor helps Yaz build some flatpack furniture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a follow on from yesterday's drabble, enjoy!

After having finished at Tesco, Yaz brings the Doctor back to her flat, uncharacteristically nervous about having this particular visitor. The Doctor had visited before, of course, but it had been a while, and Yaz really cares about her options. Although, the state of the flat would suggest that it hadn’t been that long. That’s the thing about travelling on the TARDIS, time gets all weird. So even though it had been months on the TARDIS, in reality it had only been a week or so since Yaz had moved in, as is obvious in the numerous flat-pack boxes stacked against the wall in the corner of her living room.

“Huh, I forgot how tiny this place was,” the Doctor muses as Yaz starts to unload her groceries from the two large bags for life.

“Well we don’t all have an infinite, sentient spaceship to live on, Doctor.”

“That was a bit rude, wasn’t it,” she grimaces, turning back around to face Yaz with her signature guilty look; raised shoulders, scrunched up nose and downturned mouth.

“Little bit, don’t worry about it though. I know you didn’t mean anything by it,” she reassures, giving the Doctor a soft smile before she returns to her task.

Yaz happily listens to the Doctor mutter to herself as she finishes putting away her shopping, double checking any of the food that was already in there hasn’t gone bad (thankfully, none of it had) before making her way over to her sofa and flopping down with a relieved sigh.

She’s barely been sitting down for two seconds when the Doctor pipes up again.

“What’s that?” she asks, pointing to the stack of boxes in the corner with interest.

“Flatpack furniture. Smallest one is a coffee table, middle sized one is a TV unit, and the two big ones are bookshelves,” Yaz supplies.

The Doctor hums in thought, steepling her fingers and using them to rest her chin on. 

“And flatpack furniture is the one you build yourself, right?”

Yaz nods in confirmation, and the Doctor’s face lights up.

“Ooh, that sounds fun. Can we build it?”

Yaz shakes her head and leans it against the back of the sofa, sighing. “I’m really tired Doctor, maybe tomorrow, yeah?”

“I could sonic it for you?”

“It’s made of wood, Doctor. Besides, half the fun of flatpack furniture is putting it together.”

Yaz smiles softly as the Doctor’s face drops.

“Tell you what, will you follow the instructions for the TV unit if I read them out to you? Coffee table is a bit boring and the bookshelves really need two people, they’re heavy.”

“Yasmin Khan, I am great at following instructions,” she grins.

“Somehow I doubt that, but I’ll let you try and prove me wrong anyway.”

Yaz then watches through tired eyes as the Doctor then proceeds to dump the entire contents of her box across the expanse of her living room floor, with seemingly no care for keeping the pieces in order. Once she’s done that, she looks back up at Yaz expectantly.

“Right, Doctor, we need to make sure we have all the pieces first. And then we start putting it together.”

Yaz guides the Doctor through checking all the pieces are there, the Doctor delighted to discover there are a couple of extras.

“Can I take these for the TARDIS?”

“Sure.”

The Doctor grins and stuffs them in her pockets before awaiting her next instruction.

“Right, so first step is to lay down one of the long panels, side with the holes up, and attach the four smaller panels to it, perpendicular.”

Yaz unashamedly watches as the Doctor completes the task at hand, tongue poking out the corner of her mouth in concentration, eyebrows furrowed and coat sleeves rolled up. The Doctor finishes quickly and looks back at Yaz, smiling. There’s a strange feeling of domesticity to the whole situation, and it’s both unsettling yet completely familiar in their newly-forming relationship.

They work through building the TV unit quickly, the Doctor unsurprisingly straying away from the instructions and adopting a bit of a freestyle method, but it gets built all the same and looks relatively sturdy. The Doctor even insists on setting up Yaz’s TV properly for her, and while she’s not entirely convinced the Doctor’s sonicing isn’t doing something other than just setting up her TV, and when she tries to turn it on it won’t trigger something else electrical in her flat, she lets her do it anyway, because she’s having fun.

There’s a warm feeling settled in her chest as the Doctor sinks herself into the sofa beside Yaz, resting her head on her shoulder. A warm feeling that is awfully akin to home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please feel free to leave a comment, they make my day. If you have anything you would like to prompt me with, don't hesitate to leave it in the comments below, or drop me a message on tumblr or twitter.
> 
> Tumblr: @emmyphant  
> Twitter: @emmyphant_


	14. Hammock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaz and the Doctor have to share a hammock. That's it.

“Doctor! Lie still, will you?”

“I can’t Yaz, too much energy.”

“But you keep elbowing me in the stomach and you’re going to tip us both out of this thing if you keep up the wriggling,” Yaz chides, blowing out air from her nose partly in exasperation, partly to get strands of the Doctor’s wavy blonde hair out of her face. A combination of the humid air and the sea spray has caused it to curl under at the ends and it has dried into waves, and as adorable as it is, it’s so much more tickly and generally in Yaz’s way.

“It’s just really hard to get comfy,” The Doctor whines, shifting around further, to the point that the hammock tips precariously and Yaz lets out a small squeak of fear.

“Ladies, do you mind,” Ryan hisses, making the Doctor jump. In fact, she jumps so much that she tips the hammock completely, sending both women toppling to the floor with an almighty thud, shaking the structure of the small wooden hut they’ve been granted as shelter for the night.

“Owww,” Yaz groans, rubbing her shoulder and clambering off the Doctor, where she had landed on top of her. “God, I wish there were four hammocks.”

“I thought you liked sleeping with me?”

“I do, Doctor, just maybe in a bit of a bigger bed.”

“Guys, we do not want to hear about what you two get up to in your own time,” Ryan smirks, squinting at the other two through the darkness. Graham remains stubbornly asleep in his hammock, snoring away as usual.

“Huh?” The Doctor straightens up, looking confused.

“Nevermind, just go back to bed, please.”

Yaz holds out a hand to help the Doctor up on the floor, the other woman pulling her face when her back cracks.

“Right, you’re going on the bottom, I’m on top,” Yaz decides, holding the hammock steady for the Doctor to climb in.

“Guys, too much information,” Ryan interjects again, sounding more and more mortified with each word.

“Hey, at least that one is accurate,” the Doctor grins, clambering into the hammock and arranging her limbs.

“Okay, definitely too much information. You’re nauseating.” Ryan shuts his eyes against the visual of Yaz climbing in on top of the Doctor. Definitely something he doesn’t need to be thinking about.

“You’re just jealous,” Yaz teases as she settles herself on top of the Doctor, tucking her body into hers and using her whole weight to keep the Doctor’s fidgeting at bay.

“Hmm, this is comfy,” the Time Lord mumbles, her chin finding its place atop Yaz’s head while her arms wrap around her partner’s torso, holding her firmly and stroking her back.

“Hmm, it is,” Yaz smiles, resting her head on the Doctor’s chest. She can hear the steady, four-beat rhythm of her two hearts, and it’s a calming mechanism. She doesn’t think she’ll ever tire of that sound.

“Sweet dreams, Yasmin Khan,” the Doctor whispers, running her fingers through the ends of Yaz’s hair at the same time as she strokes her back.

“Sweet dreams, Doctor,” Yaz echoes back.

“God, you two are nauseating.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please feel free to leave a comment, they make my day. If you have anything you would like to prompt me with, don't hesitate to leave it in the comments below, or drop me a message on tumblr or twitter.
> 
> Tumblr: @emmyphant  
> Twitter: @emmyphant_


	15. Torn (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yaz, stop,” The Doctor said suddenly, pulling Yaz from her thoughts with a sharp tug on her arm, causing her to stumble over an exposed, rusty piece of piping before righting herself.   
> “Can you hear that?”  
> “Hear what?” Yaz hissed, but the Doctor brought a finger up to her own lips.  
> “There’s a child. A child crying,” she whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another part of a one-shot. Apparently I just keep writing longer things.  
> Also I can't believe I'm halfway through this?! Thank you for all your lovely comments so far, they really keep me going and motivated to write more :)

Yaz tried not to let her senses get overwhelmed as she walked hand-in-hand with the Doctor through the war-torn streets, but it was hard. There were small fires burning all over the place, smoke heavy in the air, and there was an overwhelming scent of death and grief in the hot, heavy air. Yaz pulled her bandana up over her mouth and nose, afraid to breathe in too much of the toxic mixture. Her thoughts wandered as they searched.

They had received a distress call two days ago, and had arrived on the planet of Montiri to find a scene of death and destruction. They had quickly learned that it was a tiny planet, possibly the smallest they had ever visited together, but rich in natural resources, particularly a fuel source in high demand in this corner of this particular galaxy. It had been raided by a race from a neighbouring planet, destroying and ransacking the planet and its people simply for a bit of fuel. It made Yaz sick, both in the aftermath of the violence she was witnessing right in front of her eyes, but also in the fact that it far too closely mirrored what was happening back on earth. More so when they learned that it was a human colony. Apparently mankind still had not learned from their mistakes.

It turned out that the invaders had blocked the planetary officials from sending out any distress signals while they were raiding, but as soon as they had left, the survivors had sent out multiple, desperate cries for help.

That was where Yaz and the Doctor came in. Being such a tiny planet and having been so thoroughly ransacked, nobody else had responded, believing that there wouldn’t be any survivors. But, the Doctor and Yaz being who they were, had held out hope and had landed on the planet, and immediately set to work searching the rubble and the ruins for anyone who had made it out alive. Over the last two days, they had searched four villages, and found no more than ten survivors. Six of which had come from one household. Yaz and the Doctor had learned that they were farmers, and they had all been lucky enough to be in their cellar, turning barrels of something, when the attacks hit. But then, Yaz thought, were they really lucky? They had lost everything, their entire livelihood, and had been trapped in their own home while they heard the screams of the rest of the village around them. 

Until the screams stopped. 

Yaz had seen a lot of terrible things on her travels with the Doctor, but this was up there among the worst. There was something about an advanced, war race attacking a small, defenceless planet and its innocent people over something as trivial as fuel, something that most of them didn’t even know was there. It made Yaz sick to the stomach, but also all the more determined to rescue as many of the inhabitants left as possible.

The last two days had been hard-going, though. After being given their mission from the planetary officials, they had run back to the TARDIS and landed it inside the building. The one hospital on the planet had been destroyed during the attacks, so the Doctor had easily offered up the TARDIS medical bay to be used for treatments of survivors. Now, the ten they had found so far as well as the officials they had met when they got here were using the TARDIS as a sort of refugee camp. Being an infinite, sentient time and space ship, she was able to conjure up extra sleeping quarters for the refugees, as well as keep the kitchens stocked with food. It was not a permanent solution, but it would be good enough and would keep them all safe until the Doctor and Yaz were able to find somewhere safe to resettle them. 

Before they had left the TARDIS, Yaz and the Doctor had packed themselves large backpacks full of supplies; everything from two weeks’ worth of food and water, a tent, medical supplies, blankets, clothes. They were in this for the long haul, and Yaz knew it was going to be an intense mission. For more than one reason. They had declared their feelings for each other beyond friends for the first time a few weeks ago, and they were still trying to figure out the balance and intricacies of their relationship. They had well and truly been thrown in at the deep end with this mission.

“Yaz, stop,” The Doctor said suddenly, pulling Yaz from her thoughts with a sharp tug on her arm, causing her to stumble over an exposed, rusty piece of piping before righting herself. 

“Can you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Yaz hissed, but the Doctor brought a finger up to her own lips.

“There’s a child. A child crying,” she whispered, immediately setting off in what was presumably the direction of the noise, pulling Yaz behind her. It wasn’t long before Yaz could hear the noise too, and it pulled at her heartstrings in a way she had yet to experience on this mission. All the other survivors had been adults. But this child, this child was so scared and lost and hurt and afraid, and Yaz didn’t want them to have to go through that any longer.

“This way,” the Doctor said when they reached a house just outside of the main village. It looked half-collapsed, and Yaz was somewhat relieved when she led them into the part of the house that was still mostly standing. The crying was louder now, and the pair hurried through the structure, ducking under low wooden beams until they reached a room at the back of the house.

The Doctor pushed open the door gingerly, only an inch or so, and they both peered in. Huddled in the corner of the room, covered in soot and dust, was a small child, their face streaked with tears and their eyes wide. Although the planet was inhabited by humans, they were from Yaz’s future, and it seemed to be a planetary custom to dye their hair bright colours to mark significant events in their lives. This particular child had bright pink hair under the layer of soot and dust.

“Hi sweetheart,” the Doctor smiled, crouching down to the child’s level. “My name’s the Doctor and this is Yaz, we’re here to help people get somewhere safe and warm. Can you tell us your name?”

The child peered at them warily, but seemed to soften a little when they realised that the Doctor and Yaz were there to help, not hurt.

“Ihai,” the child whispered, and both Yaz and the Doctor smile encouragingly, opening the door a little further but staying outside the room.

“Hi, Ihai, that’s a lovely name. Can you tell us how old you are?”

“Six rotations,” they replied, smiling proudly when they remembered it correctly. A trait so apparently universal in children.

“Little girl, probably about somewhere between eight and nine years old back on Earth,” the Doctor whispered back to Yaz, and she nodded.

“Do you think you can let us help you, Ihai?” Yaz asked.

The little girl nodded.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please feel free to leave a comment, they make my day. If you have anything you would like to prompt me with, don't hesitate to leave it in the comments below, or drop me a message on tumblr or twitter.
> 
> Tumblr: @emmyphant  
> Twitter: @emmyphant_


	16. Torn (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After finding a young girl alone in a ruined building, they try their best to look after her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a follow-on from yesterday! There is a more specific mention of death and injury in this chapter, but it all follows along the same themes as yesterday.

Yaz and the Doctor opened the door fully, walking in slowly to sit on the floor against one of the side walls, making sure not to block the young girl’s exit. Although, looking at her properly, Yaz realised that she probably couldn’t have made her way out if she wanted to, why she was still stuck in this room while the exit was fairly clear. She was holding her right foot in front of her tentatively; it was angry and swollen, bare feet bloodied and bruised.

“Okay Ihai, what we’re going to do first is ask you some questions. Have you been sitting here the whole time?” The Doctor asked, and the small girl nodded shyly.

“Alright, I’m guessing you’re probably thirsty and hungry then?”

The girl nodded, and her face softened into a grateful smile when Yaz pulled a water bottle and a small food parcel out of her bag. She moved over to sit next to the young girl, flicking up the soft straw at the top of the bottle and holding it to the girl’s lips to help her drink. She was shaking traitorously, and Yaz assumed it was a mixture of hunger and dehydration, fear and pain, as well as the chill that had settled over the interior of the building despite the oppressive heat outside.

“Well done sweetheart,” Yaz murmured as she pulled the bottle away, not wanting the child to drink too much in one go and make herself sick.

“Ihai, this question might be a bit scary to answer, but we need you to tell us so we can help.”

The Doctor paused for a moment, letting the child refocus her attention on her.

“Ihai, was there anyone else in the building with you?”

The little girl immediately began to shake even more, and Yaz placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. What she wasn’t expecting was the little girl to fall into her chest. Yaz hesitated for a moment before wrapping her arms around her shuddering, ice-cold frame. Eventually she nodded against Yaz’s chest, and Yaz momentarily squeezed her tighter in comfort. 

“Well done,” Yaz whispered. “Have you seen them since?”

Her heart broke for the little girl when she shook her head and tears immediately began to soak through Yaz’s thin t-shirt and into her skin.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” The Doctor mouthed before standing up. Yaz knew she was off to look to see if there were any other survivors in the building, but she highly doubted she would find any.

“Be careful,” Yaz mouthed back, pulling the little girl closer to her chest.

While the Doctor was gone, Yaz gently asked if Ihai would like a blanket. When the little girl nodded, she lifted one from her backpack and helped her sit up a little while she wrapped the blanket around her torso tightly before Ihai’s cheek found its place on Yaz’s collarbone once again. 

When the Doctor returned twenty minutes later with a sad shake of her head, Yaz’s heart broke all over again. The Doctor dropped a quick kiss to Yaz’s forehead before she sat down opposite the pair of them, placing a tentative hand on Ihai’s shoulder through the blanket.

“Your foot looks pretty sore, do you think I can have a look at it for you?” The Doctor asked, a soft smile on her face when Ihai peeled her wet cheeks away from Yaz’s skin. She looked terrified, so Yaz spoke up reassuringly.

“She’s a great Doctor you know, she won’t hurt you. And I can keep cuddling you,” she added, relaxing a little when the child smiled a little at the second part of the statement.

The Doctor and Yaz carefully talked her through shifting her position so she was sitting between Yaz’s outstretched legs leaning against her chest. The Doctor gently eased her leg so the back of her calf was resting against the floor, her foot sticking straight up.

“Can you wiggle your toes for me? Try as hard as you can.”

Ihai screwed her face up as she tried, but eventually her little, painted toes gave the tiniest of movements and she leant back against Yaz in relief.

“Well done, Ihai, that was really good. I’m going to touch your foot now to figure out where it hurts, is that okay?” She checked, but Ihai cowerered into Yaz a little more.

“Here, you can hold my hand,” Yaz offered, removing one of arms from where they were curled around the little girl’s middle. Ihai took the hand, nodding ever so slightly. “Y’can squeeze as hard as you like, yeah?”

The Doctor waited for the little girl to give her permission before starting her examination. Yaz knew when she had hit the broken area because the little girl gave a pained cry and squeezed Yaz’s hand so hard, Yaz was convinced she had cut off the circulation. Mercifully, the Doctor lowered her foot back to the floor, having finished with her examination.

“You’ve got some broken bones in your foot sweetheart, can I wrap it for you to make it more comfortable? Then we’re going to carry you back to a super special hospital we have, and we can fix it properly. There are people from other villages too, and everyone is looking after each other.”

Ihai nodded slowly again, but her eyes were fluttering closed already in pain and fatigue. Wordlessly, The Doctor reached up and placed fingertips on her temples, and her eyes closed properly as she sagged back against Yaz.

“Put her into a dreamless sleep,” she explained, rooting around in the first aid kit at her feet. “She’s exhausted, and she probably won’t want to feel this bit.”

Yaz still held the little girl securely as the Doctor wrapped her foot and then attended to a couple of smaller cuts and scrapes on her legs and arms. Even though the Doctor had said that she wouldn’t be able to feel it, she still felt that she should hold her and comfort her, just in case.

When they were done, the Doctor tidied up the supplies efficiently and then looked back at her girlfriend with an understanding gaze.

“D’you want to carry her?” She asked, already expecting the answer Yaz gave her with a short nod. 

The Doctor slipped her arms under Ihai’s knees and back to pull her across to her own lap and hold her while Yaz stood and heaved her backpack onto her back. She then passed her up as Yaz bent down to cradle her in her arms, whispering reassurances and apologies to her sleeping form as they inevitably jostled her.

As they exited the ruins of the building and began to walk, the Doctor watched Yaz carefully. There was a pain and hurt in her eyes, something she had never seen in her girlfriend before, and it concerned her.

“Hey, Yaz.”

Yaz looked over at her, features a moment away from cracking completely.

“She’s going to be fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part Three? Maybe?   
> I'm no longer ahead on these one-shots like I was thanks to a really sucky few days of mental health stuff, so I may get a little bit behind. However I'm still determined to post thirty overall, so I might be catching up for a little bit!
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please feel free to leave a comment, they make my day. If you have anything you would like to prompt me with, don't hesitate to leave it in the comments below, or drop me a message on tumblr or twitter.
> 
> Tumblr: @emmyphant  
> Twitter: @emmyphant_


	17. Torn (Part Three)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Yaz reflect on their rescue mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some fluff to finish off yet another mini story! Enjoy :)

_Four weeks later_

The Doctor sat in the doorway of the TARDIS, legs swinging out into empty space below. They had just dropped off the refugees and helped them resettle onto a new micro planet the Doctor had found for them. The TARDIS had produced a multitude of supplies to help the small group get started; only about forty survivors in the end, two per cent of the planet’s population, but it had taken the poor ship a lot of energy. So, the Doctor had taken pity on her ship and parked them on the edge of a dense galaxy, nebulae and stars swirling through the inky black a healing lotion for her racing mind.

She had gone to bed with Yaz, the last four weeks having been gruelling with little opportunity for sleep. Well, there was a plethora of opportunity, Yaz slept most nights, but the Doctor insisted on staying awake to keep watch for any danger, convinced the attackers would come back, even after they had completely decimated the planet. But, when they had gone to bed the Doctor had been unable to settle, her mind crowded with images of the last four weeks. Especially little Ihai. Apart from one, tiny baby, she was the only child who had survived, and both the Doctor and Yaz had bonded with her, perhaps more than they should. But it was hard not to, they were alone with her for three and a half days until they managed to carry her back to the TARDIS, and she had been so fragile and scared, it was impossible not to care about her. It had been hard to say goodbye.

“Can’t sleep either?” A soft voice dragged the Doctor from her thoughts, and she tilted her chin up to greet her girlfriend as she sank down beside her, pulling her knees up to her chest. The Doctor raised an arm in offering, and Yaz slotted comfortably into the space beneath it, the pair of them fitting together like puzzle pieces.

“Nope,” The Doctor replied, popping the p. They sit in silence for a moment, enjoying each other’s company.

“We should’ve got there earlier,” The Doctor muttered, her expression sorrowful. “We could’ve stopped it all happenin’ in the first place.”

“Doctor, you know you couldn’t.”

The Time Lord shook her head, sniffing against salty moisture that threatened to leak from her eyes.

“But I should’ve been able to.”

“Doctor, you had no way of knowing. The attackers blocked signals in and out of the planet, and then they erased all traces of themselves. There was no way you could have known,” Yaz comforted, tracing her fingers between the moles and freckles on the Doctor’s bare thigh.

The Doctor simply shrugged in response.

“You did the best in the circumstances, that’s all anyone can ask for.” Yaz cringed a little, she sounded like an echo of her mum, but in that moment, she realised that her mum had been right all those times. They had done their best, and they had managed to save far more people than would have survived if they hadn’t turned up.

“I’m worried about them, Yaz. Especially…”

“Ihai,” Yaz finished for her, squeezing her hand. “Me too.”

“She’s going to grow up, with no family, no kids her own age. What’s her future going to look like?” The Doctor mused, purples and blues reflected in her eyes.

“We can go and visit her, can’t we?”

“Yeah.”

“See, we can check up on her. And you know what? You did your absolute best to help them, you gave them a place to live, food, water, medical care. Somewhere safe. That’s why I love you, you care so much and you don’t rest until everyone is safe.”

The words slipped out of Yaz’s mouth without her conscious permission, and her eyes widened, head turning to seek out the Doctor to see if she had heard Yaz’s admission.

Apparently she had, her own eyes were just as wide as Yaz’s and brimming with even more tears.

“Did you just -“ The Doctor swallowed the nervousness lodged in her throat “- did you just say you love me?”

Yaz swallowed in a similar fashion. “Yeah. I love you, Doctor.”

“Yasmin Khan. I love you too.”

“Really?”

“Really. Let me prove it to you.”

The Doctor cupped her hands around the back of Yaz’s neck, gently pulling her closer until their foreheads were resting together. Yaz was the one to close the distance, moulding her lips against the Doctor’s in a soft but passionate display of affection.

It burned brighter than all the stars reflected in their eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please feel free to leave a comment, they make my day. If you have anything you would like to prompt me with, don't hesitate to leave it in the comments below, or drop me a message on tumblr or twitter.
> 
> Tumblr: @emmyphant  
> Twitter: @emmyphant_


	18. Gardening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Graham spend some time together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another chapter. I really enjoyed writing this light-hearted one, and I hope you enjoy reading it!

“Right Graham, you’re on Doctor babysitting duty today,” Yaz grins as she adjusts her shirt collar. Ryan has already left for his early shift at work (much to his dismay) and now Yaz is set for twelve hours of parking disputes and breaking up groups of teenagers. Although hopefully not for much longer, she’s getting ever closer to graduating from her probationary period and becoming a full/fledged police officer.

“I do  _ not  _ need babysitting,” The Doctor huffs indignantly, shoving yet another whole custard cream into her mouth and leaning back against the sofa with her arms crossed, sulking. 

“I think you really just contradicted your own point there, Doc,” Graham smirks, and Yaz joins in.

“I did not!”

“Doctor, last time I left you alone in my house I came back to find out that all my kitchen appliances had been programmed to play songs whenever they’re used!”

“I thought that was inspired, Graham!  _ You Spin Me Round _ for the microwave is one of my best yet, although I will admit that  _ Burn Baby Burn _ on the oven might have been more suited for Ryan.”

Yaz barely hides a snicker behind her palm as she makes her way past the TARDIS parked in the corner of the room (thankfully without breaking any chairs this time) and to the front door.

“Doctor? I’ll see you after my shift at mine for tea, behave yourself. Graham? Good luck.”

Graham laughs and the Doctor huffs at the closed door.

“Right Doc, get your gardening gloves on, we’ve got some pruning to do.”

“I don’t have gardening gloves, Graham,” the Doctor replies, bouncing up from the sofa anyway and following Graham out to his back garden.

“There’s plenty of spares in the shed,” he calls back, and the Doctor follows him along the stepping stones in the grass to the back of the garden, where a slightly haphazard wooden shed sits.

“Woah, this is tiny,” the Doctor exclaims upon stepping inside, and Graham laughs.

“Not everyone’s wooden boxes are bigger on the inside, Doc,” Graham throws back as he roots through boxes stacked neatly on the shelves.

“I know I’ve got some somewhere … aha! One pair of gardening gloves, all for you Doc.”

The blonde alien grins and slips them over her pale hands as they step out of the shed and into the early morning sun. It’s bright and reflects off the roof of the neighbour’s conservatory roof and into her eyes, making her squint.

“Want a hat too, Doc?”

The Doctor nods and goes back to gazing up at the sky.

“Here ya go,” Graham announces, pushing a yellow and white polka dot veiled gardening hat down onto the Doctor’s head. She looks completely ridiculous, but it works.

“Right, Doc. Two rules for gardening with Graham. No eating the soil, and no talking to the plants.”

“But Graham! Those are the two best bits about gardening!”

“I’m absolutely not bending on the ‘no eating the soil rule’ because you do that to work out where we are, and you know exactly where we are. I’ll let you talk to the plants, but not too loud. I don’t want to disturb the neighbours,” Graham bargains, and the Doctor miraculously agrees without further argument.

They set the work, Graham pulling all the weeds and dead foliage out of a flower bed that has seen better days and the Doctor follows him along, planting new flowers in neat rows.

About half an hour in, Graham looks over at the Doctor, deep in concentration. Her tongue is poking out the corner of her mouth, there’s a touch of soil on her nose and the ends of her slightly curled hair are sticking out from under the end of the hat. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and discreetly snaps a photograph before sending it to Yaz.

_ Graham [8:00] - Doc’s behaving herself so far. (image) _

_ Yaz: [8:06] - She looks cute, and engrossed :) _

Graham smiles and pockets his phone and goes back to his task, the pair of them working together surprisingly well.

* * *

Later that evening, Yaz pads over to her front door with a smile on her face when a familiar, four-beat knock sounds against the wood. She swings the door open to find a slightly soily Doctor, grinning from ear to ear and still sporting the polka dot hat. 

“Hey Doctor! Have fun with Graham today?” Yaz asks, shutting the door behind them as they move into the main space of the flat.

“Loads of fun!”

“Did you behave?” Yaz asks with a conspirotal raise of her eyebrow.

“Of course I did, Yaz!” The Doctor answers, almost offended.

“And any musical additions to his kitchen appliances?”

“The toaster sings  _ Pop Goes the Weasel  _ now.”


	19. Childhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An insight into Yaz and Ryan as kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was really fun to write, I hope you all enjoy reading!
> 
> cw for mentions of bullying

When the bell rings for breaktime, children coming pouring out of Redlands Primary school and the majority head for the school field to burn off some pent-up energy, while some head for the playground and the monkey bars. They all come out in pairs of small groups, they all come out with a friend.

Almost nobody spots the Year Three girl with a thick, dark plait trailing down her back and a dog-eared paperback sneakily hidden under her school cardigan as she makes a beeline for the bike sheds on the far side of the tarmacked playground. She worms her way into the space between the sheds and the greying prefab known as the after-school club, leaning her back against the plexiglass to face away from her classmates and lose herself in one of her favourite make believe stories. The other kids here aren’t her friends, they think she’s dangerous and strange, but that’s okay, because Yasmin Khan can lose herself in her make believe stories, and when her parents ask about who her friends are, she gives them the names from her books and hopes that they never ask to meet them or wonder why Yaz never gets asked around for tea, or invited to birthday parties. Yaz prefers her fictional friends anyway, they don’t make fun of her.

“Hi.”

Yaz jumps and looks up from her book, scared she’s been caught by a teacher or even worse, Izzy has found her hiding place, but she relaxes when she sees it’s only Ryan. Ryan is one of the only people in her class she will vaguely tolerate. Calling him a friend might be pushing it a bit, though.

“Hi,” Yaz echoes back, watching as Ryan sits down next to her before going back to her book.

“Why are you sitting down here?”

“The other kids think I’m strange, they don’t want to play with me,” she shrugs, frowning at her page.

“They think I’m strange too. And they don’t let me play football ‘cause I can’t kick it.”

Yaz looks up at him, he’s far taller that her, with a frown.

“They think you’re strange too?” She asks, genuinely curious. She thought she was the only one people in her class don’t like.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I already said. I can’t kick the football and my letters are all messy, and I always fall up the stairs,” Ryan grumbles, collecting tiny pieces of gravel from the ground in the palm of his hand.

“Hmm.”

“Why do they think you’re strange?”

Yaz goes quiet for a moment, considering her options. She hates telling people that other kids think she’s strange. But usually it’s the grown-ups that ask. And they don’t tell her why people don’t like them. Ryan’s a kid like her, and the others think he’s weird too.

“I like reading made up stories. And they think my family is dangerous.”

“What are your stories about?”

“Stars. Flying in space. Aliens.”

“Cool aliens that are all green and slimy?” Ryan grins, and Yaz scoffs at him.

“Not all the aliens are green, Ryan.” Of course they’re not, that would be silly.

“Well what do aliens look like then?”

Yaz smiles as her imagination picks up, images floating through her mind as someone actually pays an interest in the little world she has created for herself.

“Some of them look like us. Some look like magical creatures. Maybe some are green and slimy, I don’t know.”

Ryan nods his head, dropping his little collection of gravel back to the ground.

“Do you want to come for tea at mine? And I’ll show you what the aliens look like.”

“Alright then,” Ryan says, just before the bell signals the end of breaktime.

“Can we talk more about aliens at lunch time, Yaz?” He asks, waiting for her to climb out of the hiding spot before they go back across the playground to join their class.

“Sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to leave a comment, they make my day. If you have anything you would like to prompt me with, don't hesitate to leave it in the comments below, or drop me a message on tumblr or twitter.
> 
> Tumblr: @emmyphant  
> Twitter: @emmyphant_


	20. Undercover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaz and the Doctor go on an undercover mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna say now that this is not proofread because I'm feeling a bit icky this morning and I wanted to post it so I could cross something off my to-do list and make myself feel better. All mistakes are my own, but I hope you enjoy anyway!

“Right, Yaz. You’re my wife.”

Yaz stopped in her tracks immediately, spluttering through her shock. They’d only been dating for a couple of weeks and she knew the Doctor wasn’t exactly conventional, she was an alien for goodness sakes, but even this was a bit mad for her.

“Excuse me?”

“This ball, this planet. You’re seen as higher class if you’re married, so we’ve got a far better chance of figuring out what this big company is up to if they think we’re husband and wife.”

“Wife and wife,” Yaz corrected, automatically.

“Ahh, yes. Woman now. Still can’t get used to that,” she grins, before adjusting the bow tie on her tux and grabbing her hand to drag her through the double doors of the mansion into the heart of the party. Well, technically a cover story, an alibi for whatever these aliens were up to. In all honesty, these were Yaz’s favourite types of adventures to go on with the Doctor. Solving mysteries and conspiracies, that’s what she loved. It gave her that kick that she had always wanted from work, but was yet to find while still a probationary officer.

“Right, so these guys we’re after, they’re shape-shifters,” The Doctor explained, pulling Yaz to one side once they had confirmed they were on the guest list and had been let into the mansion. “They automatically take the form of something or someone that is comforting or familiar to you, so they could look like anything. For example, for you, they might just look like any old human, but they also might look like something more specific. So if you see anyone familiar, I am ninety-nine point nine per cent certain it won’t be who you think it is. I could sonic them and jam their perception filters, but of course they’ve made them sonic proof.”

Yaz giggled when the Doctor rolled her eyes and huffed in annoyance. “Also it would look a bit suspicious if you suddenly whipped your sonic out at a fancy ball,” she added, tilting her chin up to look at the Doctor properly. The light streaming through the arched windows and reflecting off the crystal chandelier was scattering small sparkles of light across her face, and it made her look gorgeous. So gorgeous that Yaz was having a hard time thinking. They probably needed to get out of this corner.

“Should we go and mingle then, Doctor?” Yaz suggested.

The Doctor grinned widely in excitement and offered Yaz her arm so they could walk out into the thrum of people together. “Yes, let’s mingle.”

It wasn’t long before Yaz spotted what she was looking for. A familiar bob of blonde hair across the room from her, in a black tux and holding a drink. Except the woman with the blonde hair and dressed in a tux is still holding her hand while she rambles about some obscure planet to a blue-skinned alien in a too-tight suit.

“Hey, sweetheart, I think there’s someone over there we need to talk to,” she interrupted, tugging on the Doctor’s hand to get her attention. Acting married was stranger than she thought it would be.

The Doctor looked at her quizzically for a second before Yaz raised her eyebrows at her and she excused them from the conversation, steering them over to another quiet corner so they could talk.

“I think I found who we’re looking for.”

“Where, what do they look like?”

Yaz pointed in the direction of where she had seen the fake Doctor. 

“Right, that pillar there, the one with the speaker on it above the buffet table.”

“Yup.”

“About six feet to the left, behind the buffet table.”

The Doctor nodded as her eyes searched the crowd. Of course it was a lot harder when they weren’t seeing the same thing. Maybe they might be, but Yaz thought it would be a bit weird if the Doctor were to be looking at herself.

“What does it look like to you?”

“Erm … it looks like you” Yaz muttered, refusing to meet the Doctor’s eyes.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Right. Let’s get over there then, lead the way.”

Yaz thought it was strange that the Doctor had not told her what the alien looked like to her, but she let her get away with it and led her over to where the double was standing. Thankfully once they got closer, she didn’t have to point out who it was and the Doctor strode up to … herself, and began her usual confident spiel of chatter, mostly to distract whoever they were investigating and move any suspicions away from themselves.

She listened happily while the Doctor spoke, admiring her confident, no-nonsense attitude and the way the expressions on her face changed as she investigated and questioned the alien. It was strange, watching the Doctor interrogate herself.

It was almost half an hour before the Doctor led them away from the other alien and took Yaz back to their quiet corner to discuss their next steps.

“What did it look like to you, Doctor,” Yaz asked as soon as they were alone. A strange looked passed over the Time Lord’s face before she shook her head.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Doctor —”

“S’fine, doesn’t matter. But what does matter is that I’ve figured out where their base is,” she grinned, practically brimming with excitement.

Yaz was just about to ask where exactly this base was when there was a kerfuffle of noise coming from the other side of the room, where they had just been. Both of them looked over at once to see the fake Doctor pointing at them, presumably the leader, before three other aliens started moving towards them, breaking into a run after just a few steps.

“This is my favourite bit, Yaz,” the Doctor grinned, grabbing Yaz’s hand. Yaz grinned right back.

“Now, run!”

* * *

Later, Yaz wasn’t sure how much later, she was sitting in the doorway of the TARDIS with the Doctor. The day had ended up involving an awful lot of running, dodging bullets and passionate speeches on part of the Doctor.

“Doctor, what did the alien look like for you?” Yaz asked again. There were no reasons for the Doctor not to answer now.

“You,” she said softly, peering at Yaz through her hair. “It looked like you.”

Yaz breathed out slowly, her words caught in her throat. The Doctor had said that the alien would take the form of something comforting and familiar to whoever was looking at it, so that meant …

“Am I comforting for you, Doctor?” Yaz kept her voice soft and didn’t push when the Doctor didn’t answer straight away.

“Yeah, Yaz. Yeah you are.”

Yaz smiled at her, smiled to let her know it was okay to admit things like that out loud.

“D’you think I could kiss you now?” The blonde asked, and Yaz nodded eagerly. Sometimes actions spoke louder than words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please feel free to leave a comment, they make my day. If you have anything you would like to prompt me with, don't hesitate to leave it in the comments below, or drop me a message on tumblr or twitter.
> 
> Tumblr: @emmyphant  
> Twitter: @emmyphant_


	21. Achoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor is far too stubborn for her own good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today, the Doctor gets sick but won't admit it. It's a classic, but it's too much fun to write to pass up.
> 
> Not proof read, all mistakes are my own :)

_ Achoo! _

Yaz looked up from her breakfast towards where the Doctor was standing by the sink. That was the third time she had sneezed in the last ten minutes, each sneeze being more violent than the last.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Yaz checked again. There was definitely something up with the Doctor, but as ever, she was stubbornly refusing to admit that anything might be wrong. Okay, she may not have been as stubborn as she used to be, not since her stay in Judoon prison and since the boys had chosen to go back to their normal lives, leaving just her and Yaz on the TARDIS. The whole experience had softened her slightly, and now it would usually take about three tries to get something out of her as opposed to the usual ten or so that Yaz used to have to go through. 

“Peachy!” The Doctor spun around with a too-bright grin on her face, and immediately grabbed onto the counter to balance herself as she started to sway.

Yaz simply raised her eyebrows at her but didn’t comment, she knew it would be futile to ask again straight away, especially when the Doctor seemed so adamant on proving she was fine. Which she definitely was not. But, they were in the TARDIS kitchen and not out somewhere on some dangerous, madman adventure miles from any help, so Yaz decided it was not an argument worth having just yet.

Yaz watched critically from behind her steaming mug of tea as the Doctor flapped about the kitchen in her usual manner, but with slightly less energy. Although, the more Yaz watched, the more she realised that the Doctor wasn’t actually  _ doing _ anything. Sure, she was opening cupboards and rummaging through boxes and tins, but she wasn’t actually taking anything out and making anything. She just kept giving little huffs of frustration, standing still for a moment and then moving onto the next cupboard. It was a little unnerving.

When Yaz finished her tea, she got up to rinse the mug at the sink and chanced a glance at the Doctor, who had now moved onto the fridge. She was staring at it, unseeingly and swaying a little from side to side. Yaz cleared her throat and moved over, gently putting a hand on the alien’s shoulder and calling her name.

The Doctor jumped so hard she smacked her elbow on the edge of the fridge door and grumbled crossly, turning to Yaz with a disgruntled look on her face.

“Yaz! Why did you go and frighten me like that?”

“I didn’t mean to scare you Doctor, I’m sorry,” Yaz apologised sincerely, but not letting go of her shoulder.

“How long have you been here?’ She asked, suspiciously.

“We were just talking before, Doctor. I asked if you were feeling okay and you said you were peachy, which was totally unconvincing by the way, and then here we are.”

The Doctor hummed in thought before squeezing her eyes shut for a few seconds and then opened them again, blinking hard a few times as if she were trying to clear her vision.

“You know what … Maybe I’m not so peachy after all,” she mumbled, moving a hand to grip onto the open door of the fridge.

“You do look a bit sickly.” Yaz scrutinised the Doctor’s face. Her cheeks were flushed pink, pupils just a bit too big and there was a light sheen of sweat making her forehead shine under the artificial kitchen lights. 

“Maybe you need a bit of a sit down.”

The Doctor nodded absentmindedly, before very suddenly, and very worryingly, going somehow even paler than she normally was.

“Actually, can you catch me?” Was the last thing she said before she pitched forward and sagged into Yaz.

The brunette rolled her eyes as she tried not to stagger backwards and fall with the Doctor’s sudden weight. Yup, once again, she had been right, and the Doctor had been stubborn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two tomorrow!


	22. Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaz takes care of the Doctor while she's sick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow up from yesterday! I've been in a bit of a slump with these but I was determined not to fall behind, so apologies for it not being my best writing. That being said, if you have anything you would like me to write for the remainder of this month, please let me know because it would be greatly appreciated!

Yaz shook her head as she settled down on her bed next to the Doctor who had taken up residence in her bed for the last few hours. After her fainting episode, Yaz had just about managed to get her girlfriend to wake up for long enough to get changed into something more comfortable; specifically a pair of blue pyjamas covered in little green toy-story aliens. After that she had tucked her into bed, deposited a cold flannel on her forehead to keep her temperature down and then the TARDIS had led her to the med bay, where she had been instructed through a slightly confusing series of beeps and lights to retrieve some sort of scanner.

She had brought it back to the bedroom where the Doctor had already managed to tangle herself in the sheets, the damp flannel nowhere to be seen. She had scanned the Doctor and figured out she essentially had the flu. Well, a strange alien version of the flu that only affected species with a binary vascular system, aka the Doctor. Thankfully it couldn’t be transmitted to Yaz, but it looked like the Doctor was in for a particularly miserable week until she recovered.

She gently rearranged the Doctor’s limbs so she was lying more comfortably in bed instead of folded in on herself, and apologised when she groaned in pain. It seemed that the fever had already hit her hard, in fact it had probably hit before she fainted on Yaz and she had simply been refusing to acknowledge it for several hours. Touching the back of her hand to her forehead, Yaz was worried when it felt even warmer than it had just half an hour ago. She fetched another freezing cold flannel and laid it across her forehead. Then she sat down next to her, took her hand tightly and read to her.

The next two days passed in a blur of fitful dozes for Yaz, and fever dreams accompanied with tossing and turning for the Doctor. She slept most of the time, if it could even be called sleeping, she was tossing and turning and talking gibberish so much that Yaz definitely was not convinced she was actually getting any rest. About 48 hours after her fainting incident or thereabouts, it was hard to tell on a time machine floating in the time vortex, the Doctor woke up properly for the first time. 

“Hey,” Yaz whispered, setting down the book she had been reading aloud but not paying attention to.

The Doctor looked back at her, thoroughly confused. She went to open her mouth to say something but all that came out was an embarrassing croak. 

Not letting go of the hand that was clutched in hers, Yaz turned herself around and grabbed a water bottle with a straw in the lid with her other hand and helped the Doctor sit up so she could have a drink.

“You got a pretty bad bout of whatever sort of flu Time Lords can get, Doctor,” Yaz explained once she had finished drinking. “You’ve been out of it for about two days, give or take.”

The Doctor nodded slowly. “Were y’reading to me?” she croaked, coughing again until Yaz holds the straw to her lips and she can drink.

“Yeah. Wasn’t sure if you could hear me, but I thought it might help.”

“It did,” the Doctor smiled up at her before resting her head back against the pillows. They sit in silence for a few minutes, enjoying being together without the Doctor’s constant tossing and turning and moans of pain, before they're interrupted by a particularly loud rumble coming from the direction of the Doctor’s stomach.

“Hungry?”

The Doctor nodded with a smile, and Yaz leaned down to kiss her forehead before getting up off the bed.

“I’ll go and make you something to eat. Try not to fall asleep.”

In the kitchen, Yaz set to work making the Doctor some food. She made a bowl of porridge with an excessive amount of syrup, hoping to appeal to the Doctor’s sweet tooth as well as a small bowl of custard and a large glass of juice. She brought it all back to the bedroom and helped the Doctor sit up.

She watched carefully as the Doctor ate, constantly telling her she needed to slow down lest she made herself sick. She hadn’t eaten in the two days she had been out of it and Yaz wasn’t sure when she had last eaten before that, so Yaz did not want her to make herself sick and bring back up everything she had just eaten.

When she had eventually finished, vomiting thankfully avoided, she leaned backwards with a shiver.

“I feel yucky,” she announced, scrunching her nose up.

“Would you like a bath? It’ll warm you up and hopefully stop some of the aches and pains.”

The Doctor nodded miserably, leaning her head against Yaz’s.

“Y’might have to get it with me,” she mumbled, and Yaz laughed.

“Oh will I now?”

“Just to stop me slipping under, y’know,” she grinned at Yaz with a charming smile.

“Alright then. Bath time.”


	23. Pride (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaz asks the Doctor to go to Pride with her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two coming tomorrow, enjoy! :)

Yaz hovered nervously in the doorway of the console room to watch the Doctor work. She did this quite often , even more so since they had confessed their feelings for each other and had made their relationship official. There was something calming about watching the Time Lord working in her element; buried deep under the TARDIS console, coatless, and surrounded by so many wires Yaz couldn’t even work out where they originated if she tried. Today, however, there was a twitch to Yaz’s eye that could only mean one thing: she was nervous.

She slowly willed herself to walk over to where the Doctor’s head was poking out the top of the grated floor, her short blonde hair gathered into some sort of messy ponytail, that, in all honesty, had more hair that had fallen out of it than had stayed in.

As though the Doctor could sense Yaz’s presence, she paused in her tinkering and pushed her welding goggles up onto the top of her head and turned around with a grin and oil smudged across her cheek.

“Alright, Yaz?” She asked, leaning her arms on the grating.

“Erm … yeah. There was — there was something I wanted to ask you,” she mumbled, her feet suddenly becoming very interesting.

Sensing it may take a little longer for Yaz to say what she wanted than usual, the Doctor pushed herself up out of the little hole she had created for herself, strong biceps flexing under the fabric of her white undershirt. She landed slightly not at all elegantly but easily on the grating, her legs dangling down into the wire crowded space as she patted the space beside her for Yaz to join.

Yaz settled down beside her with a sight, one leg hanging in the hold with the other tucked up to her chest and resting her chin atop her knee.

“Whenever you’re ready, Yaz,” The Doctor encouraged, lazily slinging one arm around Yaz’s shoulders and rubbing her shoulder comfortingly.

Yaz took a deep breath, the air shaking slightly as it left her mouth.

_ You can do this, Yaz. It’s just the Doctor, she wouldn’t judge you. _

“So, there’s this thing, well this event, that I’ve always wanted to go to. But I never have…” she trailed off to look at the Doctor, but her face was confused so Yaz carried on.

“I’ve always wanted to go to pride. But, I’ve never had anyone to go with, and I was too scared to go on my own just in case I got hurt, or I saw someone I knew who would out me to people I didn’t want to be outed to. I know Time Lords aren’t really about the whole gender and sexual identity thing, but it would really mean a lot of if you would come to a Pride parade with me,” she rambled off in one big breath.

“Yasmin Khan, I would love to go to pride with you. I want you to be happy with yourself, and if that means going to pride, then I would be honoured to be that person to take you there,” she smiled, resting her forehead against Yaz’s and smiling affectionately.

“You’re sure? You wouldn’t get too bored?” Yaz asked, still slightly apprehensive about her decision to ask the Doctor. The more she thought about it, the more frivolous it seemed.

“Yaz, there’s no way I can get bored when you’re there,” The Doctor admitted, and Yaz elbowed her side lightly in surprise at a rare exhibit of softness.

“Plus, there will be rainbows everywhere, and music, and dancing, and good food, if my knowledge of Earth pride is correct.”

“Yeah, you’ll be right at home,” Yaz reassured, pulling her forehead away if only so she could adjust her position and kiss the Doctor properly. 

“I look forward to it. Just let me know when you feel like going, and we can pop right there. Benefits of a time ship.”


	24. Pride (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor takes Yaz to her first pride parade!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was very self-indulgent, I've never been to pride for many of the same reasons as Yaz, as well as my massive fear of crowds and noise. Anyway, enjoy!

It was roughly two weeks before Yaz decided she was ready to go, and she announced as such in a very hurried manner, as though she was afraid that if she didn’t say it out loud, she would lose the confidence she had worked so hard to build up.

“So, Yaz. Any destination requests today?” The Doctor asked over the top of a mug of tea containing an obscene amount of sugar.

“Pride. I’m ready to do pride.”

If the Doctor was surprised by the sudden admission, she didn’t show it and instead offered Yaz an easy grin.

“We can absolutely do that today. Any requests on a particular parade?”

Yaz faltered over her slice of toast. “I … oh, I hadn’t really thought about that.”

“That’s okay,” the Doctor reassured with a hand placed over Yaz’s. “We can let the TARDIS choose?”

“As long as there are no aliens there apart from you, I’m cool with that.”

  
  


When the TARDIS lands a few hours later, after giving Yaz and the Doctor a chance to get ready, Yaz felt a new wave of nerves rush through her. Just on the other side of those doors is a world she had denied herself access to for so long, first refusing to admit she was a part of it because she couldn’t accept that part of herself, and then once she had accepted it, fear that she would be recognised and outed to people that she did not want to know quite yet.

“Yaz? What’s wrong?”

The Doctor stopped just shy of the doors, one hand on the handles and the other hovering around Yaz’s wrist.

“Just a bit … nervous all of a sudden.”

“That’s perfectly okay Yaz, it’s normal to be nervous,” The Doctor reassured, taking Yaz’s hand and running her thumb over the soft skin.

“I can’t — I don’t —”

The Doctor took both of Yaz’s hands and guided her over to the steps on the edge of the console room and sat her down, drawing her in for a hug.

“Yaz, take some deep breaths,” The Doctor encouraged, squeezing her hands rhythmically.

“Sorry,” Yaz gasped.

“Please, don’t apologise. Tell me what’s getting you so worked up.”

“I’m just … going to pride, it’s this thing I’ve been working myself up to doing for so long. And now it’s here, I’m scared. I’m scared I’m not going to fit in, that people aren’t going to accept us.”

“Yaz, all that matters is that you’re comfortable with yourself. You are  _ you,  _ and I like you just the way you are. This here —” she broke off to point at the heart in bi pride colours stitched into Yaz’s navy blue t-shirt that the TARDIS had magically produced — “that’s who you are, but it doesn’t have to be everything. It’s a big part of you, but that’s not the only part of you, alright? There’s so much more to you than who you’re attracted to, alright?”

“Yeah,” Yaz breathed, intertwining her fingers with the Doctor’s.

“I’ve got you, every step of the way,” The Doctor reassured, pulling Yaz to her feet. Yaz smiled at the rainbow band wrapped around the Doctor’s wrist. They had had a discussion about what the Doctor would like to wear, and after realising that Time Lords simply had little concept of gender or sexual attraction, they had settled for a simple rainbow. She wore it in the stripes across the chest of her t-shirt everyday anyway, so it seemed to make the most sense.

“Come on, let’s do this,” she said, sounding a lot more confident than she felt.

They stepped out the door of the TARDIS hand in hand into the alleyway off the main street where she had parked herself, just out of sight of the explosion of colour and noise coming from in front of her. Yaz glanced at the Doctor, who simply gave her the trademark reassuring smile that she always flashed Yaz before any adventure, and then tugged her hand towards the main event.

As they stood and watched the parade go past, the Doctor stood behind Yaz, pressing herself up against her back and draping her arms over her shoulders. Yaz raised her hands to meet the Doctor’s, squeezing gently and leaning back into her embrace. Normally, she would be too scared to be this affectionate with the Doctor in public, but here it didn’t matter, she felt just as safe in the Doctor’s arms out here as she did on the TARDIS.

After they watch the parade, they wander off to explore the rest of the festival, getting food and looking at some of the charity stalls and stalls selling pride flags, badges, pins and clothes. Of course, the Doctor chose some of the sugariest donuts Yaz had ever seen, and she internally dreaded the sugar rush and hyperactivity that would inevitably hit later on. She blushed when the Doctor bought her her own bi pride flag, draping it around her shoulders and kissing the top of her head.

They then wandered hand in hand through the crowds, Yaz making the most of the opportunity to feel comfortable in who she was, who she liked, how she felt in herself. 

“Excuse me, would you like me to take your photograph?” A voice interrupted, and they both turned towards a young man smiling back at them politely, a rainbow bowtie around his neck and a sparkle in his eyes.

“Erm, sure. Thanks,” Yaz agreed, handing over her phone and then posing with the Doctor. They took a few photos, before the man’s friends appeared and he handed Yaz’s phone back before being whisked off.

The Doctor watched over her shoulder as Yaz flicked through the photos, a soft smile on her face as she observed how happy and comfortable they looked together.

“I liked him, he was cool.”

“Even with the bowtie?”

“Bowties are cool, Yaz! My eleventh self loved them.”

Yaz shook her head fondly before looking back at the screen. 

“Actually, Doctor. Do you mind if I post one of these pictures on social media?”

“Go for it,” the Doctor smiled, squeezing Yaz’s shoulder in encouragement.

_ [7th June, 2:11 pm] _

**_yasmin_khan1:_ ** _ Hi everyone, I don’t usually post on social media these days, I just don’t have a lot of time. But I wanted to introduce you all to someone. This is my girlfriend, and I’m proud to say that. I’m proud of who I am, who we are, and nobody can tell me otherwise. Being true to yourself is something amazing, and I hope that any of you out there questioning who you are are able to find that place of safety :) _

**[image: Yaz stands side by side with a woman of the same height, hair in a blonde bob and a rainbow stripe across her chest and a band around her wrist. Their heads are pressed together, both grinning at the camera and arms wrapped around each other. They look happy.]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!
> 
> A bit of shameless self-promo, but look out for something new tonight. Anyone hear jingle bells?


	25. Hairstyles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaz helps the Doctor experiment with her hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little follow on from the three prison chapters in this fic (See You Again) aka the ones I posted separately as their own fic under the title "We All Need Someone To Hold". Enjoy!

“Morning, Doctor,” Yaz smiles as she walks into her kitchen, Luna winding herself around her legs and almost tripping her up in the process. It has been almost two months since the Doctor had come back to them, and she is making improvements every day. She had managed to call the TARDIS back after about a month and it is parked in the corner of Yaz’s living room, making the already small space even more cramped. Although, when you have an infinite space and time ship on hand, maybe it is the opposite effect. 

They are yet to fly anywhere though, the Doctor understandably still apprehensive about being back out in the universe among the dangerous creatures that had almost killed her and her fam, and then imprisoned her for a length of time she has yet to tell Yaz.

“Morning, Yaz!” She smiles back from where she is kneeling on the floor in front of the television. While the Doctor is sleeping more since she had come back (Yaz suspects she had become severely sleep deprived while in prison) she still sleeps less than a human, and often goes to bed at the same time as Yaz and then she usually awakens at around three or four in the morning to tinker. Sometimes it would wake Yaz too, sometimes it would not.

“What have you done to my TV this time, space girl?” Yaz grins, plucking Luna’s food bowl from the floor to refill it as she mewls plaintively from around her ankles. That has been another development since the Doctor had returned; the relationship between her and Yaz. They are taking things slow, but the nickname had come about quickly and the Doctor had taken a liking to it.

“Nothing! Well, you’ve got a couple of new channels, just some standard British channels that they make you pay for but you’ve now got for free because paying for them is a capitalist rip-off.”

Yaz shakes her head fondly; while she appreciates the Doctor’s improvements to her home, the last time she had fiddled with her TV, she had been unable to change the channel from 80s Top of the Pops for a week straight. She sets Luna’s food bowl down on the floor and wanders her way over to the sofa, flopping down and tucking a leg under her opposite thigh. 

“I’ve got the day off work today, Doctor. Is there anything you fancy getting up to?”

The Doctor turns around and faces Yaz, her expression moulded into creases and a scrunched nose that signifies that she is thinking.

“Actually, there was something…” she starts tentatively, looking at Yaz shyly. Yaz pats the space beside her, inviting the Doctor to sit. That is something else they are working on; the Doctor being more open and showing her vulnerability, asking for things she needs and wants. It is slow progress, but she is trying.

“Well … I like my hair being this long, but it sort of keeps getting in the way. Could you … could you maybe teach me how to look after it better?” Her request is tentative and Yaz can see she is about to backtrack so she interrupts with a hand on her thigh and fingers running through blonde strands that are brushing shoulders. A week after she had arrived back, she had allowed Yaz to cut it from where it was originally hanging halfway down her back back to her usual short bob. It had grown out since then though, and Yaz thinks she suits the slightly longer style, making her look a little softer and a lot less distressed than she had.

“Of course we can, Doctor. I’d be honoured to teach you.”

The Doctor is about to move to get Yaz’s hair supplies from their now-shared bedroom when her stomach rumbles loudly, and she laughs in amusement as she pokes at it with a finger. 

“Fancy some breakfast?” Yaz asks, looking up at her.

“Yeah. I could make it?” Her suggestion is once again tentative, and while Yaz is always eager to encourage her into independence, something she had been deprived of during her time in prison, the Doctor’s cooking skills leave something to be desired and Yaz is hesitant to give her free reign in the kitchen. Somehow, letting her loose in there with her sonic is less terrifying.

“What were you planning on making?”

“Porridge. Is that alright?”

Yaz breathes out a sigh of relief, porridge is a good middle ground and something that she can be mostly trusted to make on her own with little danger of setting any of Yaz’s pans on fire.

“Of course it is. Just, let me add my own toppings? And call if you need any help, I’ll just be praying in our room, alright?”

When Yaz emerges from the bedroom ten minutes later, there is a steaming bowl of porridge waiting for her on the kitchen counter, various toppings set out beside it, but thankfully, none applied to her bowl.

“Bon appetit, Yaz!” The Doctor mumbles from around a mouthful of porridge and, disgustingly but not surprisingly, tomato ketchup. Yaz is grateful the Doctor had followed her instructions, and she selects the syrup from the myriad of options on the counter and drizzles a generous amount over the top of her breakfast.

* * *

After breakfast, and a shower on Yaz’s part, Yaz is sitting on her sofa while the Doctor settles on the floor between her ankles.

“Right, space girl. So if you need to get it out of your face quickly, you’re just going to want to pull it back into a ponytail most likely, to keep it out of your face. You can just pull it back to the nape of you neck, here -“ Yaz breaks off to gather the Doctor’s hair into a low, short ponytail and winds the bobble at her wrist around it to secure it in place.

“Hmm … that’s sort of itchy, I’m not sure I like it.”

“Thought you might say that,” Yaz grins, letting the hair fall loose. “You can pull it up a bit higher and that’ll keep it off your neck. That takes a little bit longer though, I usually flip my head over and gather it that way.”

She waits until the Doctor turns around to look at her so she can demonstrate and watches in awe as Yaz effortlessly flips her hair over and gathers it into a neat ponytail, tying it off before tipping her head backwards again.

“Will I have enough hair to do that?”

“Probably, yeah. You won’t be able to put it as high up your head as me because the bottom bits will start to fall out, but it’ll do the trick.”

“Okay, so ponytails are a good option. I like the fancy stuff you do with yours for work though, or those two donuts you have sometimes, can you teach me that?”

Yaz is momentarily confused by the idea of donuts, as far as she is aware she’s never intentionally decorated her hair with food, but she lets out a laugh when she realises what the Doctor is talking about.

“Oh! You mean the space buns?”

“They’re called space buns?!” The Doctor asks with an excitable grin, and Yaz softens entirely.

“Yup. Basically you just separate the top of your hair into two sections and then twist it around.” 

The Doctor watches intensely as Yaz demonstrates, and then copies. She’s a quick learner, and it only takes her a couple of attempts before she has created two very small and completely adorable space buns atop her head.

“You look amazing,” Yaz reassures when the Doctor touches the hair tentatively.

“I do?”

“Yup, space buns for the space girl,” Yaz says, kissing her hairline in reassurance.

“A suiting hairstyle, then.”


	26. Luna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaz makes a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today we're looking into the origins of Yaz's cat, Luna, from my prison rescue mini-fic. Think of it as a little prequel :)

Yaz shoved her hands into her pockets and stared at the ground as she trudged along the road up to Graham and Ryan’s house, the harsh, early November winds whipping around her face and stinging her cheeks. Although, she barely felt it. Nor did she feel the burn in her legs as she climbed up the steep hill at the edge of the city. She just felt numb, much like she did every day since the Doctor had disappeared. Moving into her own flat last month had helped drag her out of the deep depression she had fallen into, but she could feel the blackness starting to creep back in around the edges. Ryan had seemed to know though, like he always did, so he had invited Yaz around for tea and “something that would cheer her up”.

Eventually she made it to Graham and Ryan’s house and climbed the five steep steps to their front door, rapping her knuckles against the weathered wood in a four-beat pattern she had picked up from the Time Lord and never dropped.

A few moments later, the door swung open to reveal a grinning Ryan and Graham, motioning at Yaz to go back down the stairs before she could even step through the front door.

“Thought you wanted me over for tea?” She grumbled, tucking her chin inside her coat and frowning at the pair.

“Yes, but we’ve got a little surprise for you first, cockle.”

Yaz narrows her eyes in suspicion; Graham’s surprises are usually far too loud and involve too much socialising, something which she definitely does not want to engage with today.

“I know what you’re thinking mate, but trust me, you’re going to love this.”

Ryan’s grin is as infectious as ever, and Yaz can’t help but allow her lips to twitch into a small smile in response. She follows the boys down the garden path, onto the street, and then … straight up the neighbour’s garden path.

“Guys?”

“You’ll see,” Ryan replied, that easy grin of his coming to the surface again.

“I don’t get it,” she grumbled, staring at the ground and toeing at a leaf with her boot while Graham rapped at his neighbour’s door.

It swung open a few moments later to reveal a short older woman with snowy white hair and a soft looking face.

“Ahh, Graham, Ryan! Right on time. And you must be Yasmin,” she smiled, peering past the boys to look at Yaz, who was standing a little sheepishly behind Ryan.

“That would be me,” she murmured, offering a tight lipped smile. It wasn’t that she didn’t like this woman, but more so that she just couldn’t muster up the energy for a proper greeting. Thankfully, the woman didn’t seem to mind, and stepped back to let them all file into the house. The layout was the exact same as Graham and Ryan’s, just mirrored, and so Yaz found her way into the lounge easily. However the main difference from Ryan and Graham’s was that there were five cats sprawled around the room. Slightly shocked but trying not to show it, Yaz perched on the end of the sofa, and politely declined when the older woman offered her a cup of tea.

One of the cats, a tiny black creature, sauntered over and jumped up onto the sofa beside Yaz. She tentatively offered a hand, and the cat rubbed its cheek against her fist before climbing onto Yaz’s lap and turning itself around a few times before settling down with a purr.

Yaz was surprised for sure, but she quickly found that the presence and the weight of the small feline in her lap was calming, and found she liked it very much.

“Ahh, I see you’ve met Luna,” the older woman smiled as she came back into the room and handed cups of tea to Graham and Ryan. “She’s a sweetheart, but she doesn’t really tend to be that bold with strangers, she must really like you.”

Yaz nodded shyly before returning her gaze to Luna in her lap and scratching the top of her head. She let out a happy little purr in response and closed her eyes.

“Yaz, this is Dawn. She fosters rescue cats until they go to their permanent homes,” Graham explained eventually, and Yaz could start to see where this was going.

“Your friends thought you could use some company, Yasmin.” Dawn settled down beside Yaz on the sofa, where a stocky ginger tabby jumped up and immediately tried to stick its nose in Dawn’s cup of tea.

“Gizmo! No!” She scolded, gently but firmly pushing him away until he jumped back down.

“He still has to learn some manners.”

Yaz sat contentedly for a few more moments, the purring cat in her lap bringing her a sense of calm that she hadn’t felt in months.

“Wait, did you bring me here to get a cat?” She asked, when her brain finally caught up with the events playing out before her.

“Well, we’re getting you a cat, cockle. But yes, and I think we might have found the one for you already,” Graham grinned, and Yaz smiled the widest she had in weeks. She had a feeling Luna might be just what she needed.


	27. Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Graham and the Doctor have a heartfelt conversation!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this as a little follow-up to S11 E09: It Takes You Away. Enjoy!

The TARDIS corridors were dark when Graham walked down them, the ship herself seemingly leading him towards the library. Well, one of the libraries. It was a few days after their adventures in Norway, and Graham was still feeling unsettled, and there seemed to be a general understanding among the fam that he and the Doctor weren’t talking. It had cast an uncomfortable atmosphere onboard the ship, and while Graham didn’t realise it, the TARDIS was fed up with Graham and the Doctor’s argument and had decided to intervene. So, unbeknownst to him, the lights on the walls that Graham was following would lead him straight to the Doctor.

Graham walked into the library, to the sight of the Doctor sprawled across one of the sofas. Her coat and boots were off, braces hanging off her hips and her nose buried in a thick, ancient-looking book. Graham was about to turn around, with the excuse that he was interrupting in a private moment, when the TARDIS have a very loud and very insistent beep and the Doctor’s gaze shot up from where she was focused on her book, flitting around for a few moments until it settled on Graham.

“Oh, hi Graham. Couldn’t sleep?”

“Erm, not sure. Think the TARDIS woke me up, not sure why.”

The Doctor scrunched her face up and stared at the ceiling as the TARDIS gave a series of beeps and whistles.

“What do you mean, ‘we need to talk?’ That is not what I was thinking — ugh,  _ fine.” _

Graham chuckled at the conversation between thief and ship before settling himself into an armchair opposite the Doctor. As much as he was annoyed with the Doctor, Graham wasn’t one to hold grudges and he wanted to sort out this argument as soon as possible, even if it was thanks to the meddling of a sentient space and time ship.

“Graham, I need to apologise. I were really insensitive in that parallel universe, and that wasn’t okay.”

“Doc, it’s alright, you’ve always been a bit socially awkward and you were sort of trying to stop the collapse of the universe as we know it.”

The Doctor shakes her head and sits up properly, resting her elbows on her knees and leaning forward. “No, Graham. Those are reasons as to why I said what I did, but they don’t excuse it. So, truly, I’m sorry, I was out of order.”

Graham blinked at the Time Lord in shock, while he had been expecting some sort of apology from the Doctor, most like a little bit half-hearted and stilted, he hadn’t expected her to be so sincere.

“Oh … well thank you for the apology, Doc. It was a bit of a shock, seeing Grace. Well, not Grace, but you know what I mean.”

The Doctor nodded slowly before she spoke again. “When you all decided to travel with me permanently, you said it was because grief takes time, and that you couldn’t do that at home, because the house was just full of Grace. Is that still the same?”

Graham nodded. “To an extent, yes. But that’s not the whole reason I travel with you, Doc. You’ve shown us amazing things, things I would have laughed at if you tried to convince me they were real a year ago. Yes, it helps with the grief, but it’s not the whole reason. But seeing that … whatever it was, looking like Grace, it kind of brought some memories back.”

“That’s alright, Graham. Grief does take time, I know that. But I really do think you’re going about it the right way, you’re not letting those feelings bottle up, you’re finding healthy outlets and distractions. And I know I didn’t know her all that long, but I think that Grace would be proud.”

Graham was a little embarrassed to admit that there were tears in his eyes, and he rubbed them away with the heel of his hand. “Thanks, Doc. That means a lot.”

“Anytime, Graham. I know I’m not the best at social cues and all that stuff, but if you ever want to just … talk about stuff, I’ll listen and I’ll try my best to offer some advice.”

“Thanks again, Doc. And same goes for you, you know. You might be thousands of years older than me, but I still consider you one of my grandkids.”


	28. Rescue (Part One)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last three days (!!) of this series of one shots are going to be a three-part, complete fam adventure! It's a little bit darker than things I've written so far for this series, but I don't think it's any worse than anything you would see on the show.
> 
> Enjoy!

“DOCTOR! We know you’re here, why don’t you just make it easy on yourself and come out! We just want to talk, we swear.”

The voice of the alien that had been chasing them rang out clear across the ruined town square to where the fam were crouched down behind a crumbled stone pillar, hiding from said alien.

“Doc, he doesn’t sound happy,” Graham whispered, letting out a small sound of discomfort as he changed his position.

“I know, Graham,” she hissed, fiddling with a setting on her sonic. “I’m not entirely sure who they are but I think I do, just need to scan ‘em with the sonic to be sure.”

“Sure of what?” Yaz asked.

“How much of a threat they are.”

The fam went quiet as the Doctor fiddled with her sonic a little more before she pressed a button on it, and the usually quiet buzzing noise it made sounded far too loud in the square. Ryan was sure it would give away their position, but thankfully he could just about see around the pillar and the two aliens were facing away from them still. And that had to be good, right? Four versus two.

“Oh no…” The Doctor muttered under her breath as the sonic came up with the results.

“What? Is it bad?” Yaz, ever with the sensible questions.

“Yes and no. This particular race of aliens, they definitely don’t like me. They’re called Unoids and they were ransacking planets a couple of faces ago, so I exiled them quite forcefully. But it looks like they ended up here.”

“Right, so what’s the good news?” Yaz reasoned.

“Good news is there’s only six of them on this entire planet. They’re also a bit stupid, so even though they know I’m here, we might be able to talk our way out of this.”

“And if we can’t talk our way out of it?”

“They’ll probably decide to attack us. Try and obliterate us actually, they tend to go all or nothing. So get ready to run, basically.”

Yaz sighed, but she knew the Doctor was telling the truth.

“Right, fam. Stay behind me.” The Doctor muttered before she stepped out from behind the pillar with her hands up. The rest of the fam followed, sticking behind the Doctor as instructed. Although, as per usual, Yaz was standing a little further forward than the boys. 

As soon as they stepped out, the aliens whipped around and raised their guns with a  _ click.  _

“We’re not armed,” The Doctor said, twisting her hands back and forward to show that she really did have nothing in them.

The Unoids lowered their guns a little but still kept their fingers on the triggers, ready to be used at a moment’s notice. The Doctor wasn’t too worried; they weren’t lethal guns, but essentially quite rudimentary if over enthusiastic stun guns. If someone was shot they would just burn the skin and knock out the recipient, but still, it would not be ideal to be shot.

“Doctor … long time, no see.” One of the aliens scowled, blue saliva drooling out of its mouth as it spoke.  _ Ahh yes, that’s another thing,  _ the Doctor noted.  _ Venomous saliva. _

“Ahh yes, it has been a while, hasn’t it,” The Doctor replied.

The aliens looked confused as their eyes flicked over the small group in front of them.

“You’re not the Doctor,” The one on the right barked, raising his gun again but pointing it at Graham who was behind the Doctor’s shoulder. “You are. You are older than last time, but you are most definitely the Doctor.”

“Why do people  _ always _ think that?” Graham groaned.

“Yeah, I’m the one you’re after,” The actual Doctor said.

The Unoids looked between them with a suspicious gaze. 

“You are lying,” they barked again, both of them raising their guns back to their shoulders. “The Doctor could never be a woman.”

“Oh for goodness sakes! I am the Doctor, and yes, I am a woman!” She all but yelled. That turned out to be a mistake, if the mutinous look on the aliens’ faces was anything to go by.

The Unoids took a step towards them. “Doctor, you need to come with us,” they growled, one of them roughly shoving the actual Doctor out of the way and grabbing Graham by his shoulder. “We need you for questioning.”

Before anyone could really register what was happening, Graham was being pulled roughly away from the group, one of the guns pressed to the side of his head.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” Yaz yelled, lunging after them.

A bad move.

“Oh, the Doctor always did like the young, pretty ones, didn’t he? You know what, we’ll take you too, you might be useful for some bargaining.”

The Doctor watched in horror as one of the Unoids grabbed Yaz around the upper arm and tugged her towards them so hard, she stumbled. But, Yaz being Yaz, jumped up again immediately and thrashed around in an attempt to break free from the iron grip around her arm. Another bad move.

“Oh, of course this one is feisty. This should shut her up for a bit.”

The other three watched in horror as the Unoid raised his gun and pressed it into Yaz’s ribs as she continued to struggle. There was a horrible crunching sound and a  _ boom _ as the alien pulled the trigger, and Yaz let out a scream before she slumped forward onto the stone of the square.

“Ryan, run,” The Doctor muttered under her breath.

“What? We can’t just leave them!”

His protests were futile however, because the Doctor grabbed his wrist and tugged him along as she fled. The Unoids had already forgotten about them and were dragging Yaz and Graham away. Well, Graham was stumbling along, whereas Yaz’s unconscious body was being dragged across the rough ground.

“Ryan, there’s a much higher chance of getting them out if we aren’t there too. Yaz isn’t dead, they’ve just knocked her out, they want her for questioning. The faster we can get back to the TARDIS and figure out how we’re going to get them out of there, the better. Alright?”

Ryan swallowed his nausea and then nodded reluctantly. There had been an awful burning smell when they had shot Yaz, which the Doctor must have been able to smell too, but she was tactfully choosing not to mention it. He imagined there were all sorts of emotions going through her head right now, and she was choosing to ignore them until a later date.

“Follow me, we need to be careful getting back. I detected six of them on the planet, but there were only two in the square. I don’t know where the other four are.”

Ryan nodded again as he followed the Doctor back through the narrow streets, sticking to the shadows and keeping a low profile. Dread curled in his stomach as he imagined where they had taken Yaz and Graham and what they were about to be subject to. They had already shot Yaz, they clearly wouldn’t be holding back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two coming tomorrow :)


	29. Rescue (Part Two)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two from yesterday, and it's honestly just pure angst. It gets a bit darker, so just be warned! I promise you'll get the comfort tomorrow!

The first thing Yaz feels when she comes to, is a world of pain. She gasps at the intensity of it, her vision swimming as nausea threatens to take over. She dimly registers that her hands are stuck behind her back, her wrists aching, and she’s sitting on something cold and hard. The whole of her right side feels like it’s on fire, and her legs feel weak and almost as though they’re not actually there.

“Oh, Yaz, you’re awake.”

The voice sounds like it’s underwater and it’s hard to distinguish, but it’s definitely a man’s voice, slightly gruff. The aliens that captured them were men. 

_ No no no. _

She makes a frantic effort to scramble away from the source of the voice but her limbs are like lead and she slumps to the floor, her side screaming in protest.

“Yaz, you’re okay, it’s just me. It’s Graham, none of those Umoips in here.”

“Unoids,” she grunted, reluctantly accepting Graham’s help to sit up some more.

“Where are we?” She gasped as soon as the burning in her side subsided enough for her to do anything except concentrate on her breathing. “And why do I feel like I’m on fire?”

Her vision had cleared enough to see that Graham was pulling a face, and he was clearly very hesitant to tell her.

“Graham, just tell me. There’s no point in putting it off.”

“Fine,” he sighed, shifting on the floor. “We’re in some sort of cell. Those aliens brought us here, they think I’m the Doc. They … erm, they shot you though.

“They what?!” Yaz yelled, although really it came out as more of a croak.

“Hey, hey, it’s fine. I’m pretty sure it was some sort of stun gun, but it burned you pretty spectacularly.”

Yaz narrowed her eyes at him and then slowly looked down to where it felt like she was on fire. She very nearly passed out again when she saw that there was a charred hole in her t-shirt about the size of the palm of her hand and the skin underneath was red and weeping. 

“Oh, that’s bad,” she whispered, eyes widening in panic.

“I know, Yaz. But we’ve been here about four hours, I think, and nobody has come to see us yet.”

Yaz nodded slowly; she wasn’t sure whether this was a good thing or not. On the one hand, being left alone meant that nobody was coming to hurt them, but it also meant that they were stuck in here for an unknown amount of time, without food and water, and Yaz weakening with each passing minute.

Trying to push the panic out of her chest, she took deep, measured breaths as she surveyed the room. A small square room, maybe three metres by three metres. The ceiling was very low too, Yaz was sure that she wouldn’t be able to stand up straight even if she had the energy to get off the floor, and it was extremely claustrophobic. The walls, floor and ceiling were all made of rough stone, and there were no windows. The only possible opening was a solid looking steel door in the wall opposite where Yaz and Graham were sitting. There was a single, bright fluorescent light in the low ceiling, and the harsh glare was burning into Yaz’s brain, a headache fast forming behind her eyes.

“Any sign of the Doc or Ryan?”

Graham shook his head. “Nothing. But I saw them get away, they’ll be figuring it out.”

Yaz breathed in and out deeply, trying to remember that the Doctor always came to save them, that she had Ryan there to help, and Yaz had Graham, so nobody was alone in this. Still though, the terror gripped at her and twisted her stomach into knots until she felt sick again.

“Try and get a bit more rest Yaz. You need to conserve your energy, you’re not looking too good.”

“Well, I did get  _ shot _ Graham,” she bit back. The older man raised her eyebrows at her but didn’t comment; Yaz was definitely not okay so a bit of snarkiness was most certainly allowed. Instead, he shrugged his jacket off and folded it up.

“Here. Use this as a pillow. I’ll wake you up if anything happens.”

Yaz nodded, albeit a little reluctantly, and allowed Graham to help control her descent to the floor with his knee under her head, given that his arms were still tied behind his back too. She barely moved her legs from the curled up position they were already in; afraid that if she moved too much, it would only worsen the searing pain in her side.

* * *

“Doctor, we need to find them.” Ryan insisted as soon as they stepped back through the doors of the TARDIS, out of breath and a little bit terrified.

“I know,” she muttered, bending over the console and frowning.

“Yaz is hurt, Doctor. They might hurt her more, or hurt Graham too.”

“I know!” She suddenly snapped, shoulders heaving and eyes shining as she whipped around to face Ryan. “Do you not think I know that? I would never, ever forgive myself if we didn’t get Yaz and Graham back alive in one piece. Yaz should never have even got hurt, they shouldn’t have been captured in the first place. It was my fault, so I need to fix it.”

“Let me help,” Ryan said, a little more softly.

“I can’t endanger you too, Ryan.”

“Doctor, you wouldn’t be endangering me. I’m choosing to help you, that’s my choice and not yours. So let me help you, alright?”

The Doctor stared at Ryan for what seemed like an eternity until she eventually gave a small nod and beckoned Ryan over to the console.

“Fine. But you follow my instructions, don’t do anything I don’t tell you to.”

* * *

Yaz was rudely awoken sometime later by the slamming of the metal door into the wall, the vibrations reverberating through her bones and making her groan out loud. She cracked her eyes open to see two of the Unoids entering the cell, forced to bend down because of the height of the ceiling. But, with Yaz still lying on the floor, it gave them the advantage of looming over her threateningly. Yaz gulped with nerves, she knew what these aliens were capable of, and she didn’t know what more they would do.

“Oh, hello there pretty one. How are you doing down there on the floor, where you belong?”

Yaz refused to give the alien the privilege of an answer, instead glowering at him as well as she could manage until he backed up, his stinking breath no longer puffing over her face.

“So, Doctor, are you going to tell us why you’re here? Are you here to expel us from this planet again, because somehow I don’t think that’s going to happen. We’ve got you here, there’s no getting out of this now. Don’t even have your precious sonic, do you?” The other Unoid taunted, his face inches from Graham’s.

“I don’t have a sonic, because I’m not the Doctor,” he replied, in a tone far more even than he felt.

“You lie. We know we can’t really hurt you, you’re a Time Lord, but you should probably tell us the truth.”

“I swear to you, I’m not the Doc. Everyone always thinks I am, but I’m not,” he repeats.

“Well then, we’ll just have to hurt your little friend instead until you answer, won’t we?”

Before Yaz could really register what was happening, one of the Unoids yanked her roughly upright, her shoulders screaming in protest as they were stretched in her binds, and the burn on her side radiated searing pain around her body. She was gasping for breath when the fist connected with her jaw, slamming her back against the wall until she slumped to the floor again. The last thing she heard before she lost consciousness was the Unoids slamming the door shut, leaving her and Graham imprisoned and alone once again.


	30. Rescue (Part Three)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arghhh, the final installement!! I hope this makes up for the last couple of days, enjoy :)

“Right, I think they’re in here,” the Doctor whispered from where she was crouched under a window in front of Ryan. They had tracked artron energy signals and followed the trail to this building. It looked as though it may have been grand once, someplace official, but now it lay in ruins.

“Sure?” Ryan checked, adjusting his crouched position, his legs were starting to go dead.

“Ninety five per cent. The artron energy trail goes in through that door there, so we’ll have to follow it in. It’s the quickest way to find them, but also possibly the most dangerous because we can’t sneak around as well, we have to assume the way they’ve taken them is a well-used route.”

Ryan nodded. He understood what the Doctor was saying, but he was also terrified of both coming across more of the Unoids, and of what state Yaz and Graham would be in when they found them. They had seen and heard Yaz getting hurt, and Ryan had an awful feeling that the Unoids were certainly capable of much worse, if what the Doctor had already told him was anything to go by. It had already taken them forever to get back to the TARDIS and figure out some sort of plan, and then they had been walking through the city for close to two hours, following the trail that the sonic seemed to be locked onto.

“Right, let’s get a shift on then,” the Doctor muttered before standing up slightly and creeping forwards, the sonic buzzing quietly in front of her. It seemed that the closer they got to artron energy, the louder it buzzed, which was how they were following the trail and how they would know they had located Yaz and Graham, if they couldn’t immediately see them.

They snuck into the building, keeping a low profile and sticking to the shadows. The first thing Ryan noticed was how low the ceilings were; if he were standing to his full height, he is sure that the top of his head would be brushing the ceiling.

“Doc, what’s with the ceilings?” He whispered when they stopped for a moment.

“The original inhabitants of the planet only grew as tall as about four feet, so they really didn’t need all that extra ceiling height. Makes it a bit claustrophobic for us though,” she explained, before training all her concentration into the buzzing of the sonic, moving it around until it seemed to intensify as she pointed it towards a large door in the corner.

She scanned her eyes around the room to check for any danger, before nodding towards the door. “This way.”

Ryan followed her as they yet again moved around the room, hugging the wall until they reached the door. The Doctor pointed the sonic at it, and it unlocked with a loud  _ clunk _ that reverberated around the room. If anyone was nearby, they would certainly have been caught, but thankfully, that didn’t seem to be the case.

They slipped through the door, only to be met with a steep, uneven staircase leading down with an even lower ceiling than before, forcing both of them to lower their stances further.

“It might be easier if you bum shuffle down,” the Doctor whispered back to Ryan, and he nodded. As undignified as it was, it was certainly the safest way to get down; they really didn’t need either one of them to fall and crack their head on solid stone, not when they had two people to rescue.

They made it to the bottom, and were greeted with a long, wide corridor stretching on as far as Ryan could see and with more corridors branching off either side at regular intervals. The ceiling was still lower than it had been on the ground level, and they were both forced to crouch once again. Perhaps more disconcerting though, was the flickering, but bright fluorescent lights lining the whole length of the corridor. There were no shadows here they could hide in.

“Move quietly and slowly. We don’t want to attract attention to ourselves. Keep your wits about you,” the Doctor whispered before she started to creep forwards, the only sounds being the quiet buzzing of the sonic, and Ryan’s blood thrumming in his own ears.

They had made it about halfway down the corridor, the sonic not getting any louder, when the Doctor stopped suddenly, grabbing Ryan’s wrist urgently.

He was about to say something when the Doctor raised a finger to her lips and shook her head, before tugging him down a side corridor. Her eyes darted around frantically before she spotted a door on the right and pulled Ryan through it, pulling it to behind them. As his eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness, he realised they were in some sort of old electronics room. The equipment looked far more modern than anything he had ever seen on earth, but it was rusted and had clearly been out of use for a long time. Clearly, it didn’t control the lights then, and Ryan didn’t let himself think about what else it might be for.

“I heard a couple of them, heading this way. Just stay quiet until they’ve gone.” She explained in a hushed tone, and Ryan nodded. A few seconds later he heard the gruff voices getting closer, and he subconsciously held his breath.

“So stupid … why won’t he just admit that he’s the Doctor?”

“Dunno, the last time we saw him he was very stubborn. Way too attached to those people he travelled with though, we can just keep using the pretty one to get him to talk.”

Ryan’s blood ran cold, and when he looked at the Doctor, the expression on her face was so furious and pained, he didn’t dare say anything.

He simply waited until she started to fiddle with the sonic again, and then the buzzing was a lot louder than it had been before. There was suddenly a sense of hope.

“They’re across the other side of the corridor,” she muttered. “I’ll go first, and give you a thumbs up if it’s safe to follow.”

Ryan didn’t think it was the wisest plan, having them split up, but he didn’t dare argue and just nodded in agreement before the Doctor slipped out of the room they were in. He watched her tentatively stick her head out into the main corridor, look either way and then dart across into the side corridor opposite them. She turned around and gave Ryan a thumbs up, with much less enthusiasm than usual, and he followed.

The corridor they had gone into was much different to the other one; it was lined with small, solid steel doors every three metres or so on each side. Every door had a light above it. All of them were green except one. 

The Doctor and Ryan looked towards each other and nodded before creeping towards the red light, the buzzing of the sonic getting louder and louder until they stood directly outside it.

With a deep breath, the Doctor changed the setting on her sonic and pointed it at the door. The lock whirred for a few seconds before there was a heavy  _ clunk _ and it swung open a few centimetres.

The Doctor was the first to step in, swinging the door open and her resultant cry of emotion is all Ryan needed to hear to know that this was bad.

“Doc, thank goodness you’re here. Yaz isn’t okay.”

Instead of answering him, the Doctor dropped to her knees beside where Yaz was lying on her side on the hard, cold floor, completely unconscious, battered and bruised.

“Are you alright, Grandad?” Ryan asked, bending down next to him and looking at him in concern.

“Fine apart from these chains,” he replied, rattling the metal binds holding his hands behind his back. “It’s Yaz you want to worry about, they really hurt her.”

The Doctor pointed her sonic at Graham, and the chains fell to the floor with a thunk before she did the same with Yaz’s.

“Where did they hurt her?”

“She’s got a massive burn on her side from where they shot her, the one against the floor. They dragged her along the floor to get her here. And they punched her in the face, then she cracked her head on that wall and she was out cold,” he explained, his voice shaking as he moved to lean over Yaz and push the hair out of her face, now that he had his hands free.

The Doctor nodded gravely and then carefully rolled Yaz onto her back to get a better look at her. She didn’t stir, but the Doctor noted that her skin felt ice cold and her skin had a slightly grey quality to it.

She moved to inspect the burn on Yaz’s side, and swallowed her nausea when she saw that parts of Yaz’s t-shirt were caught in it, and it was red and weeping and extremely painful looking. She would definitely have to clean it, and sincerely hoped that Yaz would still be out of it while they carried her back to the TARDIS and to the medbay until she could sedate her properly. 

“Okay, we need to get you both out of here, before those Unoids come back. Ryan, you take Yaz’s legs and I’ll take her arms and support her head. Graham, I need you to keep a lookout for any of those evil guys, they can’t know we’ve broken you two out.”

Graham and Ryan and nodded in understanding and then she moved behind Yaz. First, she removed her own coat and then put it on Yaz, although backwards to avoid having to move her body too much. She hooked her arms under her shoulders and pulled back backwards so her head was supported against the Doctor’s chest. She and Ryan were forced to shuffle out of the tiny cell backwards on their knees, trying to stop Yaz’s body being dragged across the ground any further. 

They started to make their way down the long central corridor slowly, the low ceilings and Yaz’s dead weight between Ryan and the Doctor making it tough going. By some small miracle, they didn’t come across any of the awful aliens and made it out of the building in one piece. Spotting some ruins surrounding a patch of grass on the other side of the square in front of the building they had just left, they moved around the edge of the square until they were hidden away from any prying eyes. They laid Yaz gently down on the soft patch of grass, the Doctor easing her head to her lap, brushing her hair out of her face. 

Yaz raised her hands, flailing them about until they strayed too close to her burnt skin which was still shielded by the Doctor’s coat and the Doctor caught her wrists lightly. She cried out and tried to fight the Doctor off but she was weak and soon started to give in.

“Shh, you’re okay, Yaz. It’s just me, we got you and Graham out of there, we’re just taking a little break on some grass before we get back to the TARDIS. You’re safe though, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

_ She was flying. _

_ No, she couldn’t be flying, she couldn’t fly. _

_ So how was she moving? _

_ Was someone carrying her? Why was someone carrying her? _

_ She was cold, so cold, but there was something soft against her skin. It smelled nice, it smelled safe. _

_ Then there was fresh air against her skin, and a different kind of light. Less harsh, but still bright, so very bright. _

_ They were moving again, and then they stopped, and she was moving down. There was something soft and a little bit tickly under her back. It felt nice. _

_ But her skin felt like it was on fire. _

_ She needed to check, where was she hurt again? _

_ Then all of a sudden there were hands wrapped around her wrists. _

_ No! Get off me, get off me! _

_ But wait. _

_ Those weren’t man’s hands, they were smaller, and the touch was so gentle. _

_ Those were … those were the Doctor’s hands.  _

_ And then there was a voice, and oh so familiar voice. It sounded like it was underwater, the words all echoing and bouncing around. But there was no mistaking that voice for the Doctor. _

_ She would be safe if the Doctor were here. _

Yaz stilled at the sound of the Doctor’s voice, seeming to calm down, but her eyes remained closed and her breathing still came with difficulty.

“Alright to move again, Ryan? She really needs the medbay.”

Ryan nodded determinedly, resuming his position by Yaz’s legs. 

“Alright Yaz, we’re going to move you again now. I’ve mapped out the quickest route back to the TARDIS, so we’ll have you there as quick as we can. I’ve got your shoulders and your head, Ryan’s got your legs. You’re safe with us, I promise.”

Together, they lifted on the count of three and then resumed their agonal journey back to the TARDIS.

* * *

The group practically fell through the TARDIS doors when they got back, Ryan and the Doctor carefully lying Yaz down on the floor so the Doctor could pilot them away from this god awful planet and park them safely in the Time Vortex. Graham and Ryan knelt down beside Yaz to hold her steady while the TARDIS took off, but the flight was thankfully smoother than normal and they weren’t thrown around the console room like ragdolls. Still, Yaz groaned at the slight jostling and the Doctor was over in an instant, stroking her unbruised cheek and talking to her quietly until she settled again.

The Doctor and Ryan scooped her up again and carried her back through the door of the console room, Graham following behind them. Thankfully, the TARDIS had moved the medbay to be directly opposite the console room, and the door swung open for them so they could carry Yaz straight through and place her down on one of the beds. She still wasn’t fully conscious and her eyes were closed, but moisture was leaking out from under the lids and she was making little noises of distress.

Graham settled himself down on a bed too, and he noted that there was a glass of water and two small white tablets on the table beside it, as well as 

“Painkillers there,” she explained, already jumping into action to secure an oxygen mask to Yaz’s face.

“Take those, then Ryan, that tub there is a healing balm, use that on Graham’s wrists. I’ll come and check you over properly when Yaz is stable,” she explained.

While Ryan set to work, she slipped an IV into the back of Yaz’s hand to sedate her and then worked to cut away the material of her t-shirt so she could properly access and clean the burn on her side. She covered her with a blanket, both to keep her warm, although the TARDIS had already increased the temperature in the room, and for modesty.

As she worked to clean the skin, she felt anger boiling through her veins. She was so angry at the aliens that had decided to hurt Yaz, hurt her best friend like this, for seemingly no reason other than they wanted something from her. Probably revenge, and she would sort that out later, but for now her main priority was the woman lying unconscious on the bed in front of her.

She worked efficiently, and soon enough the burn was clean, treated, and covered in gauze to prevent any further infections. Next, she applied the healing balm to Yaz’s wrists, the bruises on her face and to the few minor scrapes and grazes on her arms and ankles. To finish, she tucked the blanket around her more firmly and, in a moment of impulsivity, kissed her forehead.

From the other side of the room, Graham and Ryan watched the whole process with interest. It was clear that the Doctor was angry, whether that was at herself, the aliens, they weren’t sure, but it was clear that she was seething. Bust still, she treated Yaz with such care and consideration that it was clear there were some other feelings bubbling under the surface. Of course, the Doc was always careful, but there was that extra level of concern as she looked after Yaz. They were half-inclined to make a bet on how long it would be until they admitted their feelings for each other.

Finally, the Doctor, satisfied that she could do no more for Yaz at this moment, kissed her forehead and moved back over to check Graham. She made sure Ryan had treated his wrists properly and quickly checked him over for any other injuries. Finding none, she gave Graham permission to leave the medical bay, and the boys made their way towards the door.

“You coming with us, Doc?” Graham asked, pausing in the doorway.

“Nah, someone needs to stay and monitor Yaz. Make sure nothing goes wrong, y’know,” she shrugged sheepishly, standing beside Yaz’s bed and subconsciously touching her fingers to the back of Yaz’s hand. Ryan spotted the movement and smirked, nudging Graham.

“Well, we’ll leave you to it, Doc,” Graham nodded.

* * *

The Doctor didn’t leave Yaz’s side for the next two days. She sat in the chair beside Yaz’s bed at first, holding her hand and obsessively checking the oxygen mask was staying in place and the monitor was displaying her heart rate correctly. It was slow, but not worryingly so. Still, the Doctor couldn’t bear to leave her, no matter how exhausted she was.

Graham and Ryan were checking on the pair periodically, every two hours or so. When they checked on them after the twelfth hour, just before they headed to bed, they couldn’t help but smile at the sight before them. The Doctor had climbed into bed next to Yaz and had her in a loose hug, their hands intertwined.

“Bet you a tenner they kiss each other within twenty-four hours of Yaz waking up.”

“Ryan!” Graham scolded. “We can’t make bets on our friends!”

Just as he spoke, the Doctor gave a little sigh and pressed her face into the side of Yaz’s neck.

“Fifteen?”

“You’re on, son.”

* * *

When Yasmin finally awoke, the first thing she registered was a solid weight beside her on the bed. That was odd. She very gingerly turned her head, only to find that the person there was the Doctor, pressed into her side and holding her hand. She smiled, still a little loopy from the pain medication and the sedatives the Doctor had given her. There was a slight sting in her side whenever she moved, but it was mostly dulled, and that, she was grateful for. She tried to call the Doctor’s name, but her throat was dry and all that came out was a raspy cough.

It worked though, and the Doctor shot up, eyes searching wildly for a few moments for the source of the noise until her eyes settled on Yaz lying down next to her. She simply stared at her for a moment, until Yaz coughed involuntarily once again and the Doctor jumped up from the bed, suddenly realising where she was. She pressed a button on the wall that raised the bed that so that Yaz was more upright, then removed the mask from her face and held up a cup of water with a straw to her lips. Yaz drank the whole cup in one go, and, her throat still scratchy, downed a second easily until the Doctor had to take it away from her, lest she was sick.

“Hey,” she said softly, hovering beside the bed, not quite sure what to do with herself.

“Y’can sit down, y’know,” Yaz croaked, raising a shaky arm to pat the bed beside her. The Doctor stared at the spot for a moment, before tentatively sitting down next to her friend.

“How are you feeling?” She asked.

“Horrible. But the drugs are good,” she smiled, inching her hand ever closer to the Doctor’s until her fingertips brushed pale skin. The Doctor jumped a little at the contact, but then she wrapped her fingers around Yaz’s and squeezed gently.

“You took it quite bad. But you’re on the mend, quicker than you would be on Earth,” she reassured, stroking her thumb over the back of Yaz’s hand. Yaz smiled, it might have been the drugs talking, or it might have just been that her guard was lowered, but she was enjoying the contact, this closeness with her best friend, who also happened to be her crush.

“Am I strong enough to get out of this bed? It’s getting uncomfortable, and I do really need the bathroom.” Her tone was hopeful, she hated being in one place for too long and was almost as bad as the Doctor when it came to sitting still.

“Probably, I’ll have to support you though.”

Yaz beamed internally at the suggestion. While she generally would prefer to walk independently, if anyone would have to help her, she would prefer it to be the Doctor.

She bit back a groan as the Doctor eased her out of bed, wrapping an arm carefully around her waist to walk her out of the medbay and to her bedroom. The TARDIS had thankfully moved it near to the medbay again, and so it was a short, if painful walk. The Doctor carefully lowered her to sit on her bed, crouching down in front of her while she took a few deep breaths.

“Alright?”

“Yeah,” Yaz breathed, gratefully squeezing the Doctor’s hands.

“Could you maybe help me into something comfier?” She asked, gesturing to the thin gown she was currently wearing. “And then, could we maybe ask the boys to hang out in the cinema room? The really comfy one with the giant sofa thingy that takes up half the room.”

The Doctor looked momentarily spooked at the idea of having to help Yaz change, even though she had done it when Yaz was unconscious, but she quickly composed herself and nodded, striding over to Yaz’s dresser to retrieve some clothes.

After a few shakes of the head from Yaz thanks to the Doctor’s questionable choices, she ended up dressed in a pair of soft grey joggers and an orange t-shirt. The Doctor slipped fluffy slippers onto Yaz’s feet and then wrapped an arm around her waist again to help pull her up to a standing position. 

The walk to the cinema room was much longer than the walk from the medbay to Yaz’s room, so they took it slowly and carefully, Yaz stopping every ten metres or so for a breather before they began to move again.

Eventually they made it, and Graham and Ryan were already setting up the movie whilst the Doctor helped Yaz down onto the large, bed-like sofa. She fussed around her until Yaz practically batted her away, the boys watching the whole situation unfold and smirking to themselves.

As the movie progressed, Ryan and Graham watched the situation across the room unfold in amusement. First, Yaz asked the Doctor if she would sit down next to her, ‘for support’ she claimed. Of course, she would be perfectly well supported by cushions, she already was, but she didn’t tell the Doctor that.

Ten minutes later, the Doctor snuck an arm around Yaz’s shoulder.

Another fifteen minutes, and Yaz was resting her head on the Doctor’s chest, and one leg slung over hers.

By the time they were forty minutes into the film, the all four had stopped paying attention entirely; Yaz and the Doctor were simply just staring at each other. Graham and Ryan were watching them.

Two minutes and thirteen seconds later, their lips met, and Ryan and Graham averted their gaze politely. 

“You owe me fifteen quid, grandad,” Ryan whispered, smiling gleefully. 

Although maybe not quietly enough. Yaz raised her head and the Doctor twisted herself to glare at them.

“Were you betting on us?” Yaz accused.

“Maybe…”

“Doctor?”

“Yes, Yaz?”

“Chuck a cushion at them for me please.”

“Anything for you Yaz,” the Doctor grinned, kissing Yaz again before sending an avalanche of pillows in the direction of the boys. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for coming along on this crazy, month-long challenge with me! I honestly don't know how I've made it to the end, it certainly wouldn't have happened without the encouragement of my wonderful friends, so thank you!
> 
> If this is the first thing of mine you've read, I currently have two thasmin AUs going, and I periodically post other one-shots and drabbles. Hope to see you all elsewhere :)
> 
> Thanks,  
> Emma x

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please feel free to leave a comment, they make my day. If you have anything you would like to prompt me with, don't hesitate to leave it in the comments below, or drop me a message on tumblr or twitter.
> 
> Tumblr: @emmyphant  
> Twitter: @emmyphant_


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